Raising Snape
by RainCityWriter
Summary: Harry has been raised by Snape after being removed from the Dursleys as a child, and is now a young man beginning his career and readying for marriage. A potions accident transforms Snape into a nine year old, and Harry now has the responsibility of being his guardian. Snape has another shot at a happy life, but can Harry raise him? Warnings: AU, spanking (cp), strong language
1. Chapter 1 - The Potion Accident

_AN: Okay, I'm back sooner than expected. Break, Schmake, out of town company can entertain themselves for a bit. O_ _nce I get an idea it's hard to let it go without writing it down._

 ** _Setup:_** _The universe to this fiction is different than I've done before, but it is related to some of the same ideas. So if you've read some of my Snape raising Harry stories, this is not a sequel, but the universe is similar. This is a different direction than I've done before, so please give me some feedback on what you think. Is this believable? What do you think should happen? I'm sure there are stories of Harry raising Snape like this out there, but I've never read any. This story started from an idea from reader Chrissysmiles, who pointed out that so much of canon is so sad, and that Snape really never gets a fair shot at life. It sparked me the idea of Harry parenting Snape – how fun would it be seeing Harry apply what he learned from Snape onto Snape? And I didn't want to deal with the complications and paradoxes that come from time travel, so I went with making Snape younger._

 ** _Warnings:_** _This story is alternative universe (AU) in that Harry has been raised by Snape previously and Snape survives the final battle. However, my goal is to keep the characters as close to their canonical personas as possible given the changed circumstances. There will be spanking (CP) of a minor in this story, if you don't like it then read something else. There will also be discussion of past abuse, strong language, and perhaps a scene or two with violence in it. One of my greatest joys in writing fanfiction is in interacting with readers, reading reviews, and getting constructive feedback; so please let me know what you think about what I write. I have little patience, however, for people who flame, I simply roll my eyes, call you an idiot, and pity the pointless life you must lead to think abusing people online anonymously is a fun time. Also, I am not JK Rowling, nor do I intend to become her at any point in this story. I do not profit from this writing other than encouragement and reviews from my readers. Please enjoy responsibly._

* * *

"Where is he?" Harry demanded, entering the room of the Headmistress. She had floo called him as his working day at the ministry was nearly over, and told him that he needed to come to her office immediately about a matter with Severus Snape.

"He's with Madame Pomfrey," the Headmistress replied, ignoring the youth's rudeness. "I wanted to talk with you first."

"If he's injured, I must go to him!" Harry exclaimed, without thought to proper address and manners. Turning to leave, he found the door closing and locking behind him.

"You will wait and you will listen to me first," she told him firmly, invoking her best head of house voice. Harry found his body responding to it as he had when he was eleven – instant fear and respect. This was a Professor that brooked no shenanigans nor disobedience. "Professor Snape needs you calm and in control before you see him."

"What happened?" Harry asked, nodding to her authority and trying to calm himself. The grown-up part of himself tried also to save his dignity, he didn't really want to know if he could force himself through those doors or not. McGonagall was a formidable witch. Then, remembering his manners, he added, "Headmistress."

"You know he was working on his off time to develop an anti-aging potion," McGonagall told him, nodding at his remembering to include her title. "He has become much in demand for creating new potions, and in fact was considering leaving Hogwarts to become an experimental brewer full time. Well, there was an accident two days ago."

"Is he alright?" Harry asked, clearly beginning to panic. "Is he alive? What happened? Why did nobody tell me sooner?"

"He is alive and physically healthy, just . . . altered," the Headmistress told him. "We did not tell you sooner because we wanted more information first, as if this was treatable it would be a vastly different situation than if it isn't. It appears that the aging potion has made Snape significantly younger. We believe that his current age is now around nine years old."

"Nine years old?" Harry asked, aghast. "What can be done about it?"

"We have had the top healers from St. Mungo's examine him," the Headmistress explained. "It is possible that something will eventually be discovered that could remedy this situation, but for right now there is no cure. Unfortunately, one of the best Potion Masters for this project would have been Professor Snape himself. So now, for all intents and purposes he is nine years old, and likely to remain that age."

"Does he remember anything from his adult life?" Harry asked, trying to grasp the implications of what was being said. "Does he even remember me?"

"From what we can tell he only remembers his life up until age nine," she explained. "He has no memory of becoming your guardian and raising you, but he does have some memories of your mother which happened before his current age. He has been told what happened, but to him it feels as if he were transported forward in time and everyone he knew is gone. He doesn't even remember Hogwarts."

Harry was silent for a moment, taking in this information. The father who had raised him since he was nine was now gone, and he had the unsettling feeling of being an orphan once again. It was a lot to take in.

"My father is gone," Harry said softly, and the Headmistress looked at him in sympathy. "I know I'm an adult now and don't really need a parent . . ."

"You need a parent at twenty as well," McGonagall told him softly. "You are over-young to be without him, Harry. I lost my father when I was sixty and I felt that I was over-young to be without him as well."

"I can't believe that just like that he could be gone."

"He is, but he's also not," she told him gently. "Your grief will be complicated, and also incomplete until we know for sure whether or not we can bring him back. And this is also why I wanted to talk to you first; we need to talk about what is going to become of that nine-year-old boy."

"Oh," Harry said, confused. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Well, it bears thinking, because Severus Snape is now a minor with no living relative besides you," McGonagall told him. "I know you are quite young to be burdened with parenting, as you are barely out of school yourself. But I'm afraid that you are the most suitable for such a situation."

"Suitable as his guardian?" Harry asked, incredulous. "Headmistress, I'm only twenty! Ginny and I are supposed to marry this summer!"

"I know all of that," the Headmistress confirmed. "And Professor Snape hasn't been told about you yet. If you would like to not take on this responsibility, then we will search out a suitable foster home for him."

"Surely a stable, loving two parent home would be better for him," Harry argued. "What do I know about raising kids?"

"You seem to have a great deal of belief in the foster system," McGonagall told him. "I believe that you were once part of a stable, two-parent household."

"What if he gets someone like the Dursleys?" Harry asked, suddenly realizing.

"Exactly," the Headmistress answered. "I have heard it once said about marriage that it is better the right person at the wrong time than the wrong person at the right time. I think that can apply to guardianships as well."

"Do you think I can do it?" Harry asked. "I know that I, well, I want to be there for the Professor as he was there for me when I needed him. But, I mean, well, I don't really know how to do this."

"How old were you when you were placed in Professor Snape's custody?" she mused.

"Nine," Harry admitted.

"Hmm, poetic justice," she answered. "I believe that Professor Snape had the same questions that you have. He was a confirmed bachelor with what many believed was an unsuitable temperament to raise a child, especially one so important to the wizarding world and one that had been removed from his relatives for abuse. But Dumbledore thought that it would be good for both of you, and I believe he rose to the occasion."

"He did," Harry admitted. "I mean, he wasn't perfect, and things were a bit rough at first . . . but in the end I knew he loved me and I knew I was safe with him. I think that made the difference."

"Nine-year-old Severus needs the same thing," McGonagall told him. "You are your father's child, and I believe you can rise to the occasion as well. And while I do not expect you to be perfect, and I assume you will make mistakes, I also think that you can do as good of a job as Professor Snape did helping an abused boy feel safe and loved."

"He was abused," Harry acknowledged. "Professor Snape spoke of it so rarely; I didn't even think of that."

"I think it's about to come to the forefront," McGonagall told him. "Would you like to meet your new ward now?"

"I suppose now is as good of time as any," Harry acknowledged. "But could I have a few minutes to floo Ginny first? I just want her to be prepared."

"I will give you some privacy," she told him, gesturing to her fireplace. "I will be back in ten minutes to escort you to the infirmary."

"Thank you, Headmistress," Harry nodded, suddenly nervous about the call. What young woman wanted a nine-year-old snarky Potions Master to begin a marriage?

Harry was surprised to learn that Ginny was just such a young woman. "Of course you have to take him," she told him after he explained the situation. "He's family."

"Are you sure?" he asked her, surprised she was more confident then he himself felt.

"Of course," she told him. "Isn't this what he did for you?"

"Are you ready to be a mum to Snape?" he asked her, incredulously.

"No," she admitted. "But Harry, what is the alternative? He should be with people that love him, and right now that looks like us."

"I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you," Harry smiled, surprised at how easy Ginny made the decision for him.

"Don't forget it," she told him with a laugh. "I'll come round tonight for supper, how does that sound? I'd like to meet this new Severus myself."

"Can you let Hermione and Ron know? Hermione might be able to set up one of the spare rooms for him maybe, I think she's off this afternoon."

"I'm sure they'd love to help," Ginny confirmed. "I'm sure my mum has some kids things lying around that she can donate too. She'd probably be pretty good at setting things up too, do you want me to ask her?"

"That would be amazing," Harry replied, feeling relieved to realize that there was a whole group of people to help him. "You're the best."

. . .

"Remember Harry, he will take a lot of patience and care," McGonagall told him as she walked him to the infirmary. "He is not going to immediately grateful and want to bond with you; it will be your job to care for him and to earn his trust. Don't be discouraged if it takes longer than you expect."

"The man was a father to me," Harry smirked. "I think I know what I'm getting into."

"You knew Severus Snape the man," she corrected. "Severus Snape the boy was a whole different person. You have to remember that I knew him as a child, although admittedly I met him when he came to Hogwarts at eleven."

"Did he cause much trouble at eleven?" Harry asked, curious.

"What I am trying to say," she answered, ignoring his question. "Is that alongside patience and care you will also need to have clear boundaries and a firm hand; he needs to be able to respect you."

Harry paled. "I guess I would be like his father, then," he admitted quietly. He hadn't really thought of it that way. Would he be tucking Snape into bed? Making him eat vegetables? Scolding him?

"And all that entails," McGonagall agreed. "For all intents and purposes you will be the only father he knows from here on out, and you're not going to do him any favors if you come in apologizing for everything and trying to be too nice to him either. He will feel safer with firm boundaries."

"Something tells me he's already been testing those boundaries," Harry stated, looking at the headmistress to confirm his suspicion.

"A bit," she admitted. "Poppy has had difficulty keeping him in the infirmary, and he has been, well, less than polite when questioned. But I'm sure a stable and loving father will help cure him of that."

"Are you sure I can do this?" Harry asked, feeling daunted.

Stopping, the Headmistress turned and looked Harry full in the face. "We both know the misery that he endured as a child," she told him with a sad voice. "The fact that he faced continued torture at Hogwarts after a childhood of abuse is one of my deepest personal regrets. And then when it came out after the war of his heroism and selfless actions to save the war and to save you, well, I felt such admiration for the man that I had wished he'd been a Gryffindor. I visited him as he healed from Nagini's bite, and included my friendship with him in subsequent years to be very valuable indeed."

"I understand that, Headmistress."

"What you don't seem to be understanding is that this could be a whole new chance at life and a childhood for Severus," she continued. "The same chance you had when Severus agreed to become your guardian. What if he were to trust and love you even as you did him? What would that do to change his life?"

"My life would have been completely different without him," Harry admitted.

"Then let's not tell him too much about himself as an adult," she briskly confirmed, beginning her quick pace again. "Let's see what he could have become in different circumstances. Let's give him a chance at happiness."

Harry found himself agreeing with the Headmistress as they walked swiftly along the stone hallways, but also found himself very daunted at the prospect? Could he possibly parent well at his age? To the boy that had been his father? And with that, he began to feel the pangs of missing his father. Always he would have gone to Snape for advice in just this circumstance, and now there was nobody to go to. He was truly on his own, just as he realized Snape must be feeling right now.


	2. Chapter 2 - Severus Snape, Age 9

_AN: Thank you for all of the lovely feedback! I really do appreciate it; having feedback helps me think in a deeper way about the characters. Just one word about the characters in the first few chapters - I find people often seem very accepting of large changes in crisis situations, but that problems set in more as you seek to adapt to the "new normal." That is what I'm envisioning for these characters as well. For instance, if you were suddenly charged with the care of some long lost relative you would focus on practical things first - a bed, clothes, school - and the implications of your sudden parenthood would take a while to process. That's how I see it for these guys too._

* * *

Harry was struck by how remarkably ugly Snape was as a child. Though he supposed he might have been cuter a few years younger, Snape was now skinny and gangly, with everything at sharp angles. His pale, drawn skin showed off his prominent nose and the remarkably inky, lank locks of his greasy, overgrown hair. He wore a soft hospital gown that showed off whispers of bruises along his arms, and Harry could see hunger in his eyes and hollowed cheeks. The memory that Snape had given him of himself as a young child, wearing rags and clothes so mismatched they seemed to be on purpose, came to mind. He had been so dirty and neglected that Harry could almost smell him through the pensieve, and he had seen the marks of abuse on the boy's hide. And now that abused, neglected child sat before him in real flesh and blood, no longer an unresponsive memory but a very responsive young boy.

He saw that responsive young man study him back just as intently, his black eyes taking in Harry's slightly unkempt manner and easy smile. This young boy was his father? He felt as if the man he longed to see would come walking up behind him, a snarky comment on his lips and his robe snapping out in a commanding way.

"Hello, Severus Snape," Harry greeted him, his tongue feeling thick and strange. "My name is Harry Potter."

 _Just get through this,_ Harry told himself. _Just get through it for now, you can fall apart later._

"So you are the one they are fobbing me off onto," the boy sneered slightly. "How old are you? Fourteen?"

"I'm twenty," Harry answered, keeping his tone easy and pushing down the disquiet feeling that erupted hearing a version of his father's voice coming from a small child. "I'm just a little bit on the short side."

"Hmph," Severus replied, Harry's reply disarming him a bit. "I suppose you're going to tell me everything is fine and that you're so excited to have me."

"Maybe," Harry answered. "Has anybody told you why I'm to be your guardian?"

"Apparently I raised you."

"You did," Harry confirmed. "My parents died when I was quite small. You were a friend of my mother's, and when it came out that I was being abused by my first set of guardians your older self stepped in and took over my guardianship when I was almost the age you are now."

"Did I beat you?" the boy asked pugnaciously.

"Did you what?" Harry asked, astonished, all feelings of wondering if he was going to cry in front of the Headmistress suddenly gone from the shock of the question.

"Did my older self beat you?" he asked with exaggerated slowness. "Headmistress, is my new guardian an idiot?"

"I am not," Harry confirmed, deciding to take control of the conversation as the Headmistress smothered a smile. "Why do you ask if you beat me?"

"I want to know what sort of revenge you will be exacting upon me as a result of your upbringing," the boy explained as if Harry were slow. "I would like to know what I'm getting into."

"You did not beat me," Harry told him firmly. "I was actually very fond of you. We had a few rough times, especially at the beginning, but we worked it out. I respected your older self a great deal, and you were the only father I ever knew." The feelings of tears threatened again for him, but he was able to clear his throat and pretend he had allergies.

"Bleh," the boy grimaced. "How sickly sweet can you get? I don't believe you; you are covering until you can get me away from watchful eyes. Then I'll learn the truth."

"It doesn't matter if you believe me or not, Severus," Harry told him firmly, able to push back his emotions for the time being. The boy's level of snark was actually helping him get emotional control. "But it is true. And it works to your advantage, as well, because those fond memories of your older self parenting me might make me a bit more patient with you."

They studied each other for a moment then, and Harry felt himself a little unnerved by how familiar Snape felt. This young Severus had his father's sharp wit and mind, and Harry felt oddly at home with him but also remarkably not at home. It was a very disconcerting feeling, and he ruthlessly shut it down for now. This boy would not understand an emotional outburst on his part, he would need to hold himself together.

"I have found some odd bits from the lost and found that he can wear home," the Headmistress told them, placing a few folded articles on the bed. "I've transfigured them to mostly fit, but I think stopping at a clothing store might be a good idea."

"We can do that," Harry nodded. "That gives the folks at home a little time to ready Severus' room. Perhaps a muggle shop would work best for now."

"Just like that?" Severus asked in his snarky manner. "With no more thought than one might have for a stray dog?"

"Severus, we have discussed this," the Headmistress replied with firmness. "You may not come to Hogwarts until you are eleven, and even then you will need a guardian. Mr. Potter is your closest living relative, even though he's not blood the ministry recognizes him due to the fact that your older self adopted him. Now behave yourself before he decides to smack your backside."

Severus paled, turning wide, dark eyes onto Harry. "I thought you said that Mr. Potter wouldn't abuse me!" he accused darkly.

"A smack on the backside is hardly abuse," the Headmistress rolled her eyes. "Severus, Mr. Potter is your legal guardian now, and he is expected to act as your father. He will provide for you, guide you, care for you, and yes discipline you as he sees fit. Mr. Potter is a good man, the man that you yourself raised, and he will not abuse you."

"Do you drink?" Severus asked Harry again, his manner far too abrasive to be even close to polite.

"Very rarely," Harry answered, glancing at the Headmistress with chagrin. "And if I do I'll make sure you have a babysitter."

"Speaking of babysitters," McGonagall snapped her fingers, causing a house elf to appear. "With your new responsibilities, Mr. Potter, I am assigning you a house elf to help you. I realize that with your job at the ministry you might need a babysitter, so I took the liberty of providing one. Her name is Grettie, and she is very good with children. She volunteered to care for you and Severus."

"I do not need a babysitter!" Severus objected.

"You will speak to the Headmistress with respect," Harry said quietly, but something about his tone made Severus bring himself up short. He visibly closed his mouth and gave his new guardian a speculative look.

"That's better, thank you Severus," Harry affirmed, feeling much shakier than he seemed. Had he really just verbally corrected his nine-year-old father? Ward? "And thank you, Headmistress. That is most kind. Kreacher helps us out as he is able, but he is a bit crotchety and might not be the best temperament for being a nanny."

"Grettie is highly competent," McGonagall assured him. "Grettie, this is your new master, Harry Potter."

"Hi Grettie," Harry greeted her. "But please, Grettie, may I pay you as Hogwarts did for Dobby?"

"No pays!" Grettie replied in alarm. "Please no master Harry Potter!"

"Okay, okay," Harry assured her in a calming voice. "It's alright, I just wanted to offer. Thank you so much for helping me. Our house is number 12 Grimmauld Place; do you know where that is?"

"Kreacher's house!" the small elf nodded.

"Go there now and see if you can help get Severus' room ready," he told her. "Explain to Hermione who you are and that the Headmistress sent you, okay? And tell them I'll be there in an hour or two after I take Severus shopping."

"Yes, master Harry," she nodded, and then was gone in a pop.

"That's a nanny?" Severus asked, shocked.

"That's a house elf," Harry replied. "I know a lot of this is coming as a shock, but surely you heard some things about the magical world from your mother?"

"A bit," he admitted. "Enough to know that I couldn't wait to come to Hogwarts and to get away from . . ." he bit his lip, realizing he was being too candid.

"When you took me in I had heard nothing of the wizarding world," Harry assured him. "And you helped me work it out just fine. Don't worry, Severus, we'll do fine together."

The met eyes again, and Harry had to push only a little to feel the fear that Severus was feeling. He had been trying to provoke Harry to violence in front of others to see where his limits were; he didn't believe that a father wouldn't abuse him. Then, his mind clamped shut with the natural Occlumency that Harry had expected to find, and Harry withdrew.

"I want to make a promise to you in front of the Headmistress," Harry told him. "Why don't you give us a try living with us? I promise to bring you back in one week to visit Headmistress McGonagall, and if you would like to live somewhere else you can request it at that time. How does that sound to you?"

"Are you trying to get shod of me?" the boy asked, fear mixed with snark in his voice.

"No, I'm not," Harry told him. "I see that another promise would have been better. Severus Snape, I promise you that you will always have a home with me. I will do my best to love and care for you, although right now I must tell you that I will not do it perfectly. I have never been a father before, but I want to do right by you. I promise not to abuse you. Is that a better promise?"

"I still want to see the Headmistress in a week," he told Harry, crossing his arms. "So you can't abuse me for at least a week."

"I have no intention of abusing you at all," Harry told him with a smile. "Your older self didn't abuse me. I got my share of stern spankings, groundings from my broom, and a few times I did chores until I thought my arms would fall off; but you never abused me. I hope to raise you by the example that your older self set for me."

"I spanked you?" he asked skeptically, obviously looking at his relatively larger and muscular body.

"From time to time," Harry smiled. "And while I certainly didn't like it, you weren't cruel about it."

"With a belt?" he asked again, still skeptical.

"Mostly with your hand," Harry told him, trying not to blush for talking about this in front of the Headmistress. "Sometimes I got the ruler as well when I was really naughty. I did get the strap once, but let me say that I was much older, really deserved it and felt that my father was just and merciful in its application."

"What did you do?" he asked, mystified. This strange young man's reaction to the strap was different than his had ever been. Severus wouldn't ever speak of one of his beatings in such a non-caring manner.

"That story is definitely for when you are older," Harry told him, nervously laughing a little. "Let's just say that there's a reason I don't drink very much; you did not approve of it one bit."

"Will you use a strap on me?" he asked.

"No, not unless absolutely necessary," Harry told him. "I was sixteen when I got it, I promise not to use it on you if you're less than sixteen."

Severus nodded, feeling better. "So your hand or a ruler?" he asked. "I can cope with that."

"I'm not going to abuse you," Harry told him. "But I understand knowing what to expect for punishments makes you feel safer. When at all possible I prefer punishments that are about restoring the relationship, such as doing a chore for someone or apologizing. You spanked me rarely, I hope I will be the same."

"What are the rules?" Severus asked.

"I think basically showing respect for yourself and others," Harry told him. "Don't do anything that might endanger yourself or others. You will need to obey me and the other adults in the house, and we'll sort out other things as we go along. Does that sound fair?"

"Fair," Severus agreed.

"I want to take you shopping for some clothes, and then we're going to go home for supper," Harry explained. "We will be back in one week to check with the Headmistress, does that sound agreeable?"

"I suppose," Severus replied.

"Then here, take my hand," Harry offered. "We'll take the floo together."

Severus looked skeptically at Harry, as if the hand were going to bite him. Harry waited patiently, and eventually Severus cautiously took his hand. Harry led him over to the large fireplace in the infirmary, and with a handful of powder and directions to part of muggle London, they were off.


	3. Chapter 3 - Chocolate

_AN: Thank you for all of the great reviews! I'm so encouraged by them! There's a lot of questions that people have that will be answered over the next few chapters, but if there's anything you're wondering let me know. There's not too much conflict yet, but it is coming. :)_

* * *

Harry located a non-descript department store with promises of selling everything, and ushered the sulky child into the door. Harry at the momentary satisfaction of seeing the boy completely overwhelmed for a moment before his surprise was shuddered behind firm Occlumency, and Harry smiled at him.

"What sort of clothes do you like?" he asked casually.

"I can't afford this store," Severus snapped at his young guardian. "Did you bring me here to taunt me?"

"So, part of being your guardian is buying you clothes," Harry told him casually. "Obviously the robes you used to wear will no longer fit you, and you won't need robes as much until you go to Hogwarts. We can get you a dress set later if you want, but for right now let's just get you enough clothes that you're decently covered."

Severus looked down at the clothes he was wearing, adjusted and mish-matched castoffs, and couldn't bring himself to explain that these were the best he'd ever worn. Nobody was looking at him like he was a freak, he looked like a normal boy wearing play clothes.

"It's disconcerting to have you talk about me like that," Severus told him, some of the sarcasm gone from his voice. "It's like he's a different person and people keep saying it's me. I don't know what to think."

"We'll call your older self Professor Snape, then," Harry told him, understanding. "I never once called him Severus, so that will be easy for me. I went from calling him Professor into, well, into calling him Dad."

Severus nodded, looking more vulnerable than Harry had seen him yet.

"When I was living with my relatives before you – I mean Professor Snape adopted me, I only wore my cousin's cast-off clothes," Harry explained casually, trying to normalize what the child was feeling and get them back to the task at hand. Thinking about his Dad was going to make it too hard to keep it together, so he occluded those memories to help himself. "He was much bigger than me, so clothes never fit properly and were always pretty worn out when I got them. I had never purchased new clothing until Professor Snape took me shortly after he took custody of me, and I found it overwhelming at first. But now it's pretty normal, and I don't even think twice about it."

Severus looked down, as much of an admission as Harry was going to get from him.

"I like jeans," Harry told him, trying to take some of the pressure off. "It's early spring now and it won't be warm for a while, so why don't we get you some warmer clothes now and we'll get you some cooler clothes closer to the summer."

"If I'm still with you," Severus spat, though Harry heard a bit of fear in his comment as well.

"Of course, a cure could be found by then," Harry nodded. "And I would not like Professor Snape to take me to task for failing to properly look after you in your child state, so let's see about some clothes, shall we?"

"Alright," Severus consented. "I think I might like jeans too."

"I think they're over here," Harry told him. "I've never bought a child clothes, before, so maybe we can find a clerk to help us."

They did find a helpful clerk, a young ginger-haired teenager whose nametag read Krissi, and soon they were loaded up on jeans, t-shirts, a few button-down shirts, sweatshirts, and even pajamas. It had taken a brief explanation of Severus not having any clothes but the clothes on his back, and she took instant pity on them. Figuring Harry was a bit young to be a foster father but enamored with the ability to help the poor, awkward child he had in tow, she set to work with a passion. Snape tried on a few items to get sizes, and then she happily gave them a selection of his size in each item he needed.

"You will need to cuff the jeans a bit at first," she told them. "But if he's growing like my brother did at that age, it pays to have them a bit big to start. And even though we got him the slims, you might need to cinch the waist a bit in with this elastic in the waistband, see? You just put it on this button and you can change sizes as he grows."

"Thanks," Harry told her gratefully. "You've been a big help."

"Now don't forget pants," she told him. "The boys' boxers and briefs are over there," she pointed. "Socks too. You'll have to go up to the next floor for shoes, though."

"You sell trainers?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Of course," she answered. "And maybe grab him a jacket while you're up there too? It's good for the rain."

Their cart burdened with clothes, including several plastic-wrapped packages of underpants which made Severus blush and stammer when Harry selected them. How was he supposed to know if he preferred boxers or briefs? Harry got a few of each, not wanting to engage in this conversation with him either. His adult self had actually preferred silky black boxers, but he wasn't about to buy those for a nine-year-old.

"Let's get some shoes and call it good for now," Harry told him with determination. "You'll probably need more eventually, but maybe Ginny can take you out for some of that shopping."

"Who's Ginny?" Severus asked suspiciously.

"She's my fiancé," Harry explained, keeping his voice casual. "Her name is Ginny Weasley. She's going to be at our house for supper, you'll meet her then."

"She's not going to like me," Severus told Harry with certainty.

"What's not to like?" Harry smiled at him. "Here are the shoes. Do you like these?"

Harry reached out his hand to pick up the trainer on a shelf near Snape's head, and Snape flinched, ducked, and hunched over in alarm, protecting his head. Harry, shocked by the reaction, withdrew his hand quickly.

"Are you alright, Severus?" he asked quietly.

Severus didn't answer, and Harry was disconcerted to see his shoulders shaking slightly in fear, or as if he were about to cry.

"It's okay, Severus," Harry reassured him, realizing Severus had thought that Harry had been about to strike him. "You're fine. It's okay. I was just reaching for a shoe. You just had a reaction, it's okay." Harry wished he could put his hand on the boy's shoulder to comfort him, but he new instinctively that such a gesture wouldn't bring comfort to the boy, but frighten him further.

Severus, with as much dignity as he could muster, forced himself to lower his arms and to straighten up his body. Shame stained the pale skin of his cheeks, and he couldn't look at Harry at all. His stiff body waited for the reprimand.

"I like these orange ones," Harry continued, reaching for a shoe nowhere near Severus. "Do you like these? Although I guess you don't have a lot of orange to go with them. Maybe we should get the ones with green on them."

"I like the green," Snape told him, trying to sound calm though his heart still raced.

"The white with green are really striking," Harry told him. "But the black ones with green are probably more practical as they won't get as dirty. I try to buy black ones because of that, what do you think?"

"I like the black," Severus answered, barely looking.

"You look about like a two," Harry guessed. "Here, try these on and we can go from there. Good thing the Headmistress found socks for you, but it's too bad they didn't match better."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Severus managed to say as he was pushing on the slightly too small shoe, his voice fragile.

"You're welcome, Severus," Harry answered, not even pretending to not understand what he meant. "If anybody gets it, it's me. Now obviously you're a three, so let's get those off of you and try on the threes, just to make sure."

"I'm not a coward," Severus said as Harry put the new trainers back in their box to put in the cart.

"Of course you're not," Harry agreed. "But your body was just trying to keep yourself safe. It reacted to a perceived threat before your brain even really processed what was happening. Those instincts saved Professor Snape's life on countless occasions."

"I didn't really think you were going to hit me," Severus said sullenly.

"I'm gratified to hear that," Harry answered. "It's good that you trust me at least a little bit."

"I just didn't think you'd hit me in public," Severus insisted with a touch of sarcasm, not looking Harry in the face.

"Well, at least that's a little trust," Harry laughed, disarming Severus' insult. "You haven't been with me in private, so it's smart you're skeptical."

"You are a strange man, Mr. Potter," Severus told him, though Harry could see his body start to relax a little bit.

"Thank you very much," Harry told him with a grin, happy that he was able to occlude his sadness for now. He had also had many years of practice sparring with Severus' older self, and he found himself at ease more with the insults than he was when Severus sounded vulnerable. Would he be able to get this abused, scared, snarky and sarcastic child home before one of them blew? Because Harry knew it was coming.

"It wasn't meant as a compliment," Severus growled.

"I know," Harry agreed affably. "I think that with all of this hard work, we deserve a snack. Have you had much experience with muggle sweets? I think we should both pick something out in the checkout line."

"I didn't think adults ate candy," Severus commented, shock of being offered a treat momentarily disarming his sarcasm. "Do you like chocolate?"

"I love chocolate," Harry confirmed with a laugh. "When I take you to Diagon Alley I'll get you some wizarding sweets, those are wonderful! My favorite are still chocolate frogs. But that's not for today, so we'll have to make due with muggle sweets. I find the Aero bars to be quite good."

"Could I have a Flake?" Severus asked, his voice soft. He had often seen other children eating sweets, but was not ever given any of his own. His mother never bought them, having the task of just having any food in her house almost insurmountable, and it didn't occur to her that her son might want them. Several times he had tried to work up the courage to pinch one, but the fear of being brought back home having done that had so far kept him from committing theft. But he had seen other boys eating candy at parks and in the neighborhood, and he remembered the bright yellow wrapper of that particular candy. A few times he had been able to scrounge leftovers from garbage cans of things like cake and fizzy drinks left over from childrens' birthday parties, but he had never been able to scrounge a candy bar.

"Of course," Harry smiled at him. "Whatever you want."

Harry allowed the small boy to choose his candy as he piled the clothes up to be rung up, and Severus took the task very solemnly. He ended up going with his original desire, and placed the candy bar carefully beside the mint Aero that Harry had picked out for himself.

"Good choice, I like those too," Harry commented. "Let's eat it before we get home, though, so Ron won't be mad we didn't get him one."

"Who's Ron?" Severus asked, confused.

"Ron is my best mate," Harry explained. "I live in a house with Ron and Hermione Weasley, my two best friends from school. They just got married last summer, but they'll probably keep living with us at least for the time being."

"Does Ginny live with you?" Severus asked, eyeing the items that they had picked out being rung up and placed in bags.

"Ginny's family is very . . . traditional," Harry tried to explain. "And so was Professor Snape. We wanted to avoid any speculation of impropriety, so she is living with her parents until we get married."

"But it's okay for Ron and Hermione?" Severus asked, wondering.

"They are married," Harry laughed. "That makes it okay. But, in all honesty, I think part of it is that Ginny is the only girl and that makes them more protective of her. I don't mind too much; she visits a lot."

"Oh," Severus answered, not knowing what this meant. What would it be like to live in a house with this many young adults?

"Can we keep those out of the bag?" Harry asked the clerk, gesturing to the chocolate bars. "We need a bit of chocolate before we head out."

"Sure, love," the woman winked and handed the chocolate to Harry. "Just don't tell his mum you're ruining his supper."

"I won't," Harry promised with a smile, handing the yellow wrapped bar to his young charge.

Severus held the chocolate, a little in awe as he saw the total ring up at the cash register. Surely his new guardian wouldn't spend that much money on just getting some clothes for him! This is where he would back out, or at least make him give his chocolate back. He watched his guardian with careful eyes.

"Great," Harry commented, seeing the total and pulling his card from his wallet. "That looks good. I think we got everything."

After paying and with a few more pleasantries to the clerk, Harry handed one of the smaller bags to Severus to carry while taking the two larger ones himself. "Let's get to a quiet place where we can eat our treats and then apparate home," Harry told his young charge, leading him out of the store and onto a bench. "Here, I think over here might work."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Severus told him as they placed their bags down.

"No problem," Harry told him. "Here, do you need help opening that? They can be tricky."

Severus allowed Harry to help, and soon he found himself with a mouthful of crumbly, soft and amazing goodness. He had never tasted anything like it! He closed his eyes with pleasure.

"You didn't go to school, did you?" Harry asked casually.

"My mum taught me at home," Severus answered, enjoying the chocolate.

"I hear that's how a lot of wizards do it," Harry nodded. "Before Professor Snape took me in, the only chocolate I'd ever had was the occasional treat at school."

Severus didn't answer, not feeling as if he had to. Harry looked away, the quiet and the memory of Snape giving him his first chocolate frog misting his eyes a bit. Professor Snape had suspected how deprived his life had been, and had introduced things to him in a matter of fact way that helped with Harry not feeling ashamed to have been so neglected. He wanted to do that for his charge as well, especially when he realized by his enraptured look that this was likely the first time the child had tasted chocolate. He suddenly had the feeling that he was completely unprepared for the task of raising such a neglected child.

"We need to head home," Harry told him, finishing his own bar and seeing the child was nearly done with his. "And don't tell anyone I spoiled your appetite for supper."

"I won't," Severus solemnly promised, popping the last bite into his mouth reverently. "I promise."


	4. Chapter 4 - Introductions

_AN: thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and liked. I'm feeling the love! I wanted to say as the story goes on we will feel more of Professor Snape's presence in how Harry parents, and I'm hoping to start some of that here. This has been a fun exercise in thinking how Snape and Harry would have been different as children and how they would have been the same. :) Let me know what you think._

* * *

Harry brought the awkward child beside him up the steps to his house. He felt the weight of the bags in his hands, feeling it pitiful that this is all the child now owned. But Harry himself had had even fewer possessions when he had come to his new guardian – and none of them had fit properly at that. McGonagall was right, there was a certain poetic justice to the situation he found himself in.

"Don't worry," Harry told his young ward, seeing Severus' face. "These are my best friends, they'll love you."

"I'm not lovable, Mr. Potter," Snape asked, his face grim.

"Well, they've put up with me for years," Harry tried to joke, with no success. Sighing sadly, Harry entered the room with a young Severus just behind him. Harry saw that Severus' face was drawn and solemn, as if he really did expect his friends to hate him.

As Harry entered, he suddenly felt very conscious of the dark, stained wallpaper and the generations of clutter in the corners. Was this a proper place to even raise a child? Even though the Dursley's was far from an ideal environment, he tended to think of a bright, cheerful and tidy home to be what you needed to raise children. The mess of his house screamed bachelor pad that was once occupied by a dark wizarding family. Though, he thought diplomatically, Snape's home at Spinner's end wasn't much better. Perhaps they could work on making Grimmauld place better.

"We're home!" he called out, feeling a little nervous at Severus seeing his house for the first time.

"Harry!" he heard Hermione greet him, and soon the narrow entryway was filled with his friends trying to get a look at young Severus.

"Let's go into the lounge," Harry laughed at them. "Let the boy catch his breath."

"Professor Snape . . ." Hermione greeted, finding herself at a loss for words. Was she going to be greeting this small, awkward child as Professor?

"We've decided to call my father Professor Snape and this . . . erm, version of him Severus," Harry told them, trying to set everyone at ease. Then, turning to his ward. "Severus, this is Hermione Granger Weasley, Ron Weasley, and Ginny Weasley."

"That's a lot of Weasleys," Severus told him solemnly in a quiet, small voice.

"Indeed," Hermione answered him, non-plussed. "We are so pleased to have you here . . . Severus. Would you like to see the room we've prepared for you?"

"Yes, I would, Mrs. Weasley," Severus answered her with more certainty than he felt. This confident, curly-haired woman made him nervous.

"We've been trying to get it ready," Hermione explained. "Grettie the house elf really helped, she was amazing. When we found out you were coming we got straight to work, but we can also change it to how you like it."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Harry answered for his young ward, who was suddenly looking strange and tongue-tied. "And we can keep working on it as we need to."

They entered the room, and Harry gasped a little bit at how much change had been wrought on the room in just a few hours. He knew he should never doubt the power of house elves, but Grettie seemed to know her business. Everything in the room had been scrubbed, and the rubbish had been removed. Furniture had been gotten rid of or mended, and he could see how she repaired the peeling wallpaper and changed it to a nice cheery green pattern. The wood gleamed, the window was actually able to clearly see light through it, and the bed and drapes were free of dust. Harry thought this bedroom looked better than his own by far. He knew that Ron, Hermione and Ginny could be resourceful when they needed to be, but this room was obviously touched by a hand more experienced than theirs.

"Here, this is your chest of drawers," Hermione told him. "You can put your clothes in here. We found a desk and chair in the attic, but they were much too big so I shrunk them down to your size. Grettie was simply amazing, I've never seen a house elf in full work mode like that. She was able to do everything."

"Are those mine?" Severus referred to a few books Hermione had stacked on a shelf.

"Those are from my family," Ginny answered him eagerly, nodding. She wanted to make a connection with this strange boy, and she was hoping that he liked to read as she had at that age. "They're some children's books my mother had from when we were children. They're yours now."

"It's very big," Severus told them, looking around the room. He felt very intimidated by this room and by these people, what did they want from him? He shifted uncomfortably. This was far too large and fine of a room for just him, it could probably fit in half his house from Spinner's end. And there had been very little furniture at Spinner's end that wasn't broken or damaged, and here all this furniture looked like it belonged to a rich person.

"It's a big house," Harry shrugged, looking around himself. "We haven't even cleaned out all the rooms yet, we've just been doing the ones we live in. I'm sorry it's a bit shabby, I guess we haven't really prioritized decorating."

"Grettie is already making plans for the rest of the house," Ron piped in. "She seemed right shocked that 'the great Harry Potter' was living in a house that was, well, so dirty and worn out. I tried to tell her that Kreacher was old and not real able . . . well, she's taking over. And she's handled Kreacher a treat too – she's told him that because of his experience that he was in charge of the kitchen, and that she would take over the cleaning and the child minding which he didn't like as much. I think we can expect a full cleaning in short order."

"As if we couldn't have done it ourselves with a little less laziness and a little more determination," Hermione intoned. "We shouldn't have to rely on a house elf to make sure our house is tidy."

"I offered to pay her," Harry told Hermione, hoping to forestall the inevitable guilt and worry Hermione would have. "I did! She insisted she didn't want it. The Headmistress assigned her to help us with . . . well, with everything."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll work on her."

"Just, you know," Ron grinned. "Work on her after she's cleaned up a bit."

"Would you like me to help you put your clothes away?" Harry asked Severus, turning away from the lighthearted banter and towards the solemn child shifting uncomfortably. "I remember Professor Snape showed me the proper way to fold everything when I came to live here, would you like me to help with that?"

"Okay," Severus answered warily. Why was everyone suddenly being so nice to him and seemed to be glad he was here?

"Why don't you choose an outfit to change into for supper," Ginny suggested. "And we can put these . . . play clothes in the hamper."

"Am I not fit for your table?" Severus sneered, levelling his eyes at her. Ah, now this felt more familiar.

"No! I mean . . ." Ginny tried to defend, blushing and looking unsure. "I thought you might like to wear your new clothes."

"Severus," Harry told him in a firm voice. "You are misunderstanding Ginny. She was just trying to help you."

The note in Harry's voice made Severus' eyes flash fear, and his body went into a defensive stance, dropping his bags. Harry of course saw what was happening, and realized the disaster coming as Ginny took a step towards him, automatically going to pick up the bags that the boy had dropped. Suddenly, the air crackled with magic and the books Ginny had gotten for him flew across the room, slamming against the wall. One of them tore along the spine, spilling pages everywhere.

"Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed, jumping back.

"Everyone leave," Harry said in a calm but firm voice. "Leave me and Severus alone."

"I didn't . . ." Ginny started with Harry, tears in her voice.

"It was accidental magic, Ginny," Harry told her calmly. "He didn't mean to do it; I think it was just all too much and it scared him. I know you were just trying to help. I'll be down after we talk a little."

"I'll go finish supper," she told him, getting control of herself again. She had certainly seen accidental magic growing up, but she had never seen a child do it so quickly and without provocation. "Thanks Harry."

Harry nodded at them as they filed out, and was left in the room alone with his ward. He found himself uncomfortably in the position of being the one to scold his ward and he found himself wishing he could ask Hermione to have a talk with him instead; she always understood these things better. But he also instinctively knew that foisting off this responsibility now was not going to do him or the child any favors. What would Professor Snape have done? If he had been in this position at this age, he would have expected a punishment because the Dursleys always reserved the worst beatings for what they termed "freaky" behavior. But surely Severus knew about accidental magic – his mother was a witch, after all. Harry decided that his father would have explained the situation and come up with a way to help him navigate it, probably with an apology. That sounded right.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked him carefully.

"Don't pretend to be concerned," Snape hissed at him. "I can take my punishment."

"I'm sure you can," Harry answered, trying to keep his voice soft. "Would your father have beaten you?"

"Of course," Snape sneered. "Rightfully so. I can take my punishment. Is it the strap, then?"

"I told you I wouldn't use a strap," Harry told him calmly. "Do you know about accidental magic?"

"I'm not an idiot," he replied, but didn't elaborate.

"It happens to young wizards sometimes," Harry explained. He wondered if having a witch as a mother helped the boy at all navigating these things, because Harry clearly saw that he was scared and didn't know what was going on. "Usually when they have strong emotions, especially fear. It's your magic trying to protect you; there's usually not a lot you can do to control it."

"And?" Severus asked pugnaciously.

"And that means that it's not something I will punish you for," Harry answered him. "You couldn't help it. You get punished for making bad choices to help you make better choices; it's stupid to punish someone for something they couldn't help."

"You have very strange ideas about punishment," Severus told him, scrutinizing Harry's face. "You act like it's for my benefit."

"It is," Harry answered. "That's real discipline, enough of a punishment that you will have a deterrent but only for things you can control."

"You're not going to punish me?" he asked doubtfully, for the first time sounding like his voice was actually that of a nine-year-old rather than a jaded teenager.

"I'm not," Harry answered firmly. "I will sometimes, but not this time. I would like you to apologize to Ginny, however. Even if it was an accident, you should still apologize. And, you were rude to her and you broke the book she gave you."

Severus then glared at Harry. "You are punishing me!" he insisted. "I will not apologize under any circumstances."

"Alright," Harry told him, realizing that if he'd had a head on collision with the boy that it would go nowhere. Professor Snape was nothing if not stubborn, and this nine-year-old version of him was surely going to be the same. "You don't have to if you don't want to. But I thought that you were smart about these things."

"Smart?" Severus asked, confused.

"Of course," Harry told him, pulling out his wand and re-assembling the book that had been broken. "If you don't apologize, then dinner will be weird and awkward. I will probably send you to bed shortly afterwards so I can comfort my fiancé who feels very badly about the situation. Maybe it might even be easier for you to have dinner in your bedroom so we don't have to worry about it. Or, perhaps, you could apologize, enjoy dinner and dessert with everyone, and you would have a potential ally."

"Ally?" Severus asked as if that was a foreign idea.

"Of course," Harry held the newly mended book. "She wants to be an ally, she showed you that by bringing you books. She tried to think of something that would have made her happier when she was your age, and went to her mother's house to find some of her old things. Do you want her to bring you more books?"

Severus sat for a minute, thinking about what Harry said. There was a certain logic in what he was saying, but it was far different than the logic he usually employed. Admittedly, this group seemed different than his drunken, violent father and his depressed, harrowed mother. Perhaps a different strategy would work better with them.

"I do like books," Severus admitted finally, realizing how vulnerable that made him feel. He would have felt much more powerful if he could have said that he didn't want anything, but he was also aware of the fact that that wasn't true. In fact, there was something about this strange young man that stirred something in him, something deeper than he usually acknowledged. Was it possible for him to have a home where he was wanted?

"I had never apologized before Professor Snape insisted," Harry told the boy, picking up the other books and replacing them to the shelf. "I had accidently broken something of his. I didn't know what to say, and Professor Snape told me that the best apologies are short and sweet and you never use the word 'but' in them. So I said, 'Professor Snape, I'm very sorry for breaking your bottle of lacewing fly wings. It was an accident, but I promise not to run through the study any more so it won't happen again.'"

"What does an apology do?" Severus asked. "It doesn't really change anything. The bottle of lacewing fly wings was still broken."

"It doesn't change the facts, no," Harry agreed. "But it changes how people feel about it. If someone knows you feel bad about doing something wrong, it's easier to forgive."

"What does it mean to forgive?" Severus asked, his voice soft.

"It means that they decide not to hold you to account," Harry explained. "It means that you decide to move past a hurt and resume relationship. If I owe you five galleons . . ."

"What are galleons?" Severus interrupted.

"Wizard money," Harry continued. "If I owed you five pounds, and you forgive me, then I don't owe you money anymore."

"What does that have to do with an apology?" Severus asked, incredulous. Who would forgive a debt of five pounds? That could buy a lot.

"When you do something to hurt someone, it's like you owe them a debt," Harry explained. "And when someone forgives you, they're cancelling the debt. When a police offer arrests a person for doing something wrong, they either have to go to jail and pay for their crime and then they're forgiven, or sometimes they're just given a warning and are forgiven."

"But what if they didn't do anything wrong?" Severus protested.

"What you intend is certainly something that they take into account," Harry nodded. "If you kill someone on purpose you get punished much more severely than if it was an accident. And often judges let the person make an apology to the family as well, that makes it better for them if they show remorse."

"I didn't kill anyone," Severus grumbled darkly.

"You didn't," Harry agreed. "However, you did hurt someone, even if you didn't mean to do it. Showing remorse to that person will help with having a relationship with them. I'll leave you up here to think about it, come down when you're ready to apologize."

"So I'm to be locked up and starved until I apologize then?" Severus sneered. "I knew you were going to punish me!"

"If you need a longer time to think than the time before supper I'll send up a plate for you," Harry told him calmly. "Denying you food will never be a punishment that I will use. You might miss dessert or a treat, but you will never miss a meal. But I would like you to stay in your room this evening if you are unable to attempt to apologize."

"Severus Snape doesn't apologize," he spat at his guardian, feeling his fury rise. "You can't make me."

"Your funeral, mate," Harry shook his head. He recognized the child's oppositional behavior for what it was – fear and trying to protect himself. Harry also got the distinct feeling that the child was trying to provoke him – but why would he do that? Did he really want to get beaten? He didn't remember ever trying to provoke Professor Snape, though he did have a sense of relief when the Professor decided on a punishment that wasn't as bad as the one he envisioned and felt he deserved.

"You have about an hour before the meal. It's completely up to you. If you do come down, you can put on some of your new clothes. If not, maybe your new pajamas?"

Wisely, Harry decided to leave it at that and say nothing further, not giving Severus any time to get himself into further trouble with his mouth. Professor Snape had several times given him the same option and he had nearly fallen over himself in his haste to apologize. Somehow, he believed that raising Severus was going to be very different.


	5. Chapter 5 - Dinner

_AN: Enjoy! Thanks to reader Chrissysmiles for suggesting some details about how Severus would like new clothes (socks especially) and to helen101 for suggesting that Severus spar with Ron and win. Both of you guys helped me think of other aspects and how to write this part, thanks! I think Ron and Severus are not done, however. :)_

 _I love suggestions, ideas and feedback. I'm trying to make Ginny a little overeager and nice, but also worried about this new development and in over her head. Let me know if she seems on target._

* * *

"Are you alright, Ginny?" Harry asked as he entered the kitchen filled with activity.

"Fine," she answered, overly bright. "How is Sn . . . Severus?"

"He's working up the courage to apologize," Harry answered, snitching a carrot slice from the ones she was cutting up. "I'm hoping he makes it before we have to send his dinner up to him. Why are you cooking?"

"Not all of us have the benefit of a house elf," she smirked. "Kreacher made the main dishes, I just wanted to make a salad."

"Did you just talk with Severus?" Hermione asked, her eyes concerned.

"Of course," Harry answered. "It was accidental magic; I'm not going to punish him for that. He got scared is all."

"I saw the mostly healed bruises," Hermione confirmed. "Were they too severe for Madame Pomfrey to completely heal?"

"She did the best she could," Harry shrugged. "She said his body would take care of the rest."

"It's kind of freaky that he would have bruises, though, right?" Ron asked. "I mean, it's not like his body was just transformed younger, but into the actual body he had at that age. Bruises, overgrown hair, skinny, and everything."

"I wonder if it was the method of the potion he was brewing?" Hermione wondered out loud. "Perhaps it was a potion that was working with time travel as a way of curing aging? Professor Snape was brilliant enough to try something like that."

"Not brilliant enough," Ron snorted.

"We need to get him on a nutrient potion," Hermione surmised, ignoring her husband and deciding to get down to business by pulling out a parchment and quill to take notes. "And a haircut. Harry, was he homeschooled?"

"He was," Harry nodded. "He seems able to read, at least, but I've no idea what he needs as far as academics."

"I shall drill him and then develop a curriculum," Hermione nodded, adding it to her list.

"What that boy needs is George," Ron interjected. "Did you see how scared he was? George would get past that in no time."

"Maybe George could help," Harry agreed. "He was certainly good at getting under Professor Snape's skin."

"It's so hard to believe that it's really him, Harry," Ginny said softly. "I mean, I know that Professor Snape had a miserable childhood, and the only bright thing that happened to him was knowing your mother. But to see him like this – flesh and blood – underfed and bruised – it's a lot to take in."

"It is," Harry acknowledged, taking her hand. "It is. He feels like my father, but not like my father."

"You must be so sad, Harry," Hermione told him, her voice soft.

"I'm going to think about my father tonight, later," Harry told them, tensing his body and taking a deep breath. "Right now Severus needs me strong. I can, I can break down later."

"You don't have to be strong, mate," Ron told him. "You're here with us. You're home."

"Later," Harry told him, looking down. "Look, I have no idea what I'm doing. I have no idea how I'm going to raise my bloody father who is now a snarky, angry nine-year-old who seems to be provoking me to hit him yet flinching when I come near him. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"We saw him," Ginny told him, taking Harry's hand. "This isn't going to be easy."

"I feel sorry for him and irritated at the same time," Hermione admitted. "He's not one of those cute and sensitive children you can't help but love."

"And we're the grown-ups now," Harry told her. "It doesn't matter what he's like, it's our job to be calm and loving towards him."

"Harry, you don't have to be perfect," Ginny told him, snorting a bit. "My parents were tried to the limit, and they weren't perfect. But we all love them, and understand that they did their best."

"Let's say that I had this vision of Professor Snape being restored, and remembering everything," Harry told them honestly. "And he held me to account on how I was raising him. It's enough to give a bloke a breakdown."

"Look, he was new at this too when he got you," Ginny assured him. "Kids aren't that tough. They just need to know that they're loved and that there's limits, that's it. Look, my parents had to raise the twins, and that was no picnic. They got their hearts broken by Percy too, but it has all worked out. This will work out too."

"You're the kindest person I know," Hermione told him. "But Ginny is right, you don't have to be perfect."

"And you're going to have to smack his bum," Ron nodded seriously.

"Ron!" Hermione objected.

"You saw him," Ron argued. "He's bent on challenging Harry. Harry is going to have to lay down the law if the brat's going to respect him."

"He's right," Ginny agreed. "As awkward as it will be, Harry, it's a way of setting limits that Severus is going to understand."

"You're seriously condoning corporal punishment for a child who still has the traces of bruises on his arms?" Hermione asked, incredulous.

"Look, Harry's not going to beat him or anything," Ron explained. "Just a smack or two to show his displeasure."

"That's how Professor Snape disciplined Harry," Ginny argued. "So obviously it couldn't have been too bad if it worked for him."

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry blushed, even though everyone present knew that information. Though Ron had assured him that spanking was a common punishment in the wizarding world, he couldn't help but feel, well, awkward about it. It had been years since his Dad had endeavored to discipline him that way – the time when he was 16 with the strap had been the last time – but thinking about it still made him squirm a bit.

"That's true," Hermione conceded. "Professor Snape did in the end do a good job with Harry. Maybe . . ."

"Look, not tonight o'course," Ron placated. "Poor little mite has had a long day what with the shopping and destroying books and all. Tonight he has a quiet night with a good supper and a soft bed. I'm sure he'll drive Harry to the edge plenty tomorrow."

"He could just, I don't know, behave himself," Hermione huffed. "He was a professor, after all. There has to be some measure of self restraint somewhere. I don't remember my parents ever punishing me."

"He's not going to behave himself," Ron snorted. "First, he's bloody Severus Snape, the most stubborn and evil teacher in Hogwarts' history. Yes, I know he was a bloody hero, but he was also a bloody git. That came from somewhere. Just because Harry had an awful past and ended up all sweet . . ."

"Hey!" Harry protested.

"You did," Ron told him firmly. "Doesn't mean Severus will. He's the type that needs to know who is the top dog, and he has no prayer of settling down until Harry shows him that. I have enough brothers to know the difference."

"There is one large difference between the two of you Harry," Hermione addressed her embarrassed friend. "I was thinking about how your story and Professor Snape's are different. Though your upbringing was certainly not ideal; your first year was somewhere safe, where you were loved and attached. Though the Dursleys were horrific, you at least had the first year to know that there were people in the world who could be trusted."

"Severus never had that," Harry answered, understanding.

"And you're also different people," Ron nodded. "I mean, Percy and I came from the same mum and dad in the same family and look how different we are!"

"Will Severus be able to trust me?" Harry asked, leaning back. "I mean, what if I try really hard and he never is able to?"

"Maybe," Hermione agreed. "But I can't help but think that it is possible. I mean, he bonded with you as an adult, didn't he? So maybe with time, safety, and a loving family, well, maybe he could."

"It's his best shot, anyways," Ron told him. "Harry, you can't do better than that, and Professor Snape would understand that. Hey, Harry, you okay? You're looking a little green."

"Adult Professor Snape in my head just asked me what business did I have in spanking his younger counterpart," Harry confessed. "I just don't think I'm cut out for this."

"Harry, you are Severus' best shot," Ginny told him calmly. "Ron and Hermione are right. He has his best chance at being raised by you. You've overcome so much to do with your abuse, and you also know his adult self better than any other person. He also bonded with you once before, although it was when he was the adult and you were the child. The adult Professor Snape would understand you trying to parent him."

"He might even tell you off for letting his younger self get away with too much," Ron joked. "He was never one to take any lip."

"I just hope I'm up to the challenge too," Ginny told him. "I mean, I know he's nine, but he's still a bit intimidating . . ."

"Severus! How good of you to join us!" Hermione greeted him. She had been watching for him, but if she hadn't she was sure he would have listened in quite a while before announcing himself. She would have to warn Harry about his ward's propensity for eavesdropping. They would have to be more careful.

"I have come to make an apology," he stated with as much dignity as possible for a nine-year-old child. Hermione had been wrong – he had caught more than she realized. And it was enough to make himself very curious indeed about his older self. And it also made him feel vaguely unsettled but also powerful that the Ginny snit was a little intimidated by him. He had not really come down to apologize, but rather it had been driving him crazy knowing that he was likely the topic of conversation for the young adults. He had hoped to catch some of what they said, and now that he was caught he had no option but to say he was going to apologize no matter how it offended his dignity.

"Good choice," Harry nodded. "I'm glad you came down."

They waited in anxious anticipation for the apology, and Snape looked down, and then finally cleared his throat. "Miss Weasley, I'm sorry that I broke the book you gave me," he told her. "I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident."

"I understand, Severus," she answered with a smile. "I'm sure I can mend it."

"Mr. Potter already did," Severus told her, his voice still sounding forced.

"It was easy to do," Harry told him. "Severus, your clothes look very nice on you. That clerk was really helpful, wasn't she?"

"She was," Severus conceded, looking down. He did not tell Harry how it felt to slip his feet into new, never worn socks and be able to put a shoe on that fit. He had never had new socks in his life, and his shoes seemed to perpetually be too large or two small. And the trousers – he could just button them and they stayed on perfectly! He had never felt such luxury, though he knew to everyone else he just looked like a regular person.

"Great then," Hermione announced. "Dinner is nearly done; why don't we sit down at the table?"

Severus found himself trying to mimic the movements of the others. He had never sat down at a table like this with a group of people, and he really didn't have any idea on how to eat with cutlery and dishes and everything. He watched Harry, whom he sat beside, and tried to hold his knife and fork as Harry did. He found it awkward and difficult, but feeling different by eating with his hands would have made him feel even more awkward.

On the table was roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, and a salad. Severus gaped a bit at the food provided, he had never seen a meal like this before, not even for holidays. Is this how normal people ate every day?

"Let me help you with this," Harry told him, dishing him up some of the food as it was passed around. "Tell me if you want more of anything."

"Did you get enough salad, Severus?" Ginny asked. "I can pass you more."

"I have enough," he told her, then realized that might be a less than polite answer. He didn't really know how to talk either, he realized.

"So tomorrow I can take Severus around to visit George and me at the shop," Ron said. "He might like seeing it there."

"Why don't we play it by ear?" Harry asked. "Tomorrow might be a little early. I've taken the rest of the week off, so we'll see when it works."

"Mum is also going to be right eager to meet 'im," Ron continued. "Maybe this weekend we can go to the burrow."

"That sounds good!" Ginny agreed. "Maybe we can play a bit of Quidditch."

"We'll see how Severus is feeling about it," Harry told them. "It might be a bit much to meet all the Weasley clan this early. I sort of wonder if we should take things kind of slower than we might be tempted to do."

"We need to make sure he has some fun," Ron grinned, winking at the solemn young man. "That's my job as an uncle."

Severus found himself at a loss in how to handle this discussion, so he decided that silence was probably best. So he mostly ignored the attempts to engage him in conversation and focused on the absolutely crazy and difficult way that people were cutting up their food. It would be so much better to just pick up the chicken bone and bite! But, not wanting to show how deprived of manners he was, he attempted to eat like his new guardian did. The food tasted so good too – warm potatoes, spiced chicken, fresh salad – he couldn't believe that he was just allowed to eat all he wanted. He quickly emptied his plate of the food as fast as his attempts with the cutlery would allow.

Harry noticed Severus' awkwardness, and tried to make his moves obvious and easy to copy. He remembered doing the same thing to Professor Snape, shamed that he had never really eaten at a normal table like a normal person, and he remembered how odd it had felt. Harry did not want to bring it to anybody else's attention, none of the others dining at the table would ever think about what it would be like to not know how to eat with cutlery.

"I believe I'm going to retire early this evening," Harry told them as they finished their meal. "Severus, I believe you've had a long day yourself."

"Yes, sir," Severus answered, finding his voice.

"Have you had enough to eat?" Harry asked.

"Yes, sir," Severus answered.

Ron snorted, nearly choking on his food. "Yes, sir, Harry!" he mocked. "Don't get too used to that sir stuff."

"Are you mocking me?" Snape asked quietly, his voice full of venom. He felt somewhat of a compulsion to be polite to Potter, as it seemed he could beat him at any moment. But the red-headed stooge? No such compulsion.

"Chill out, kid," Ron spoofed, tipping back his chair. "You gotta relax or you'll have a heart attack by forty."

Severus launched himself at Ron, flying across the table and knocking Ron flat on his back. Severus hit Ron across the face, as the shock of being set upon by a miniature version of his potions professor shocked Ron to the point that did not even attempt to defend himself. Harry reacted the quickest, jumping into the fray and wrestling the young Severus off of his ginger-haired friend.

"You crazy bastard!" Ron yelled at Severus once the child was removed from his chest. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"You mocked me!" Severus yelled, his breathing rough.

"Get used to it, brat!" Ron hollered back, his face flushing with righteous indignation. "Who do you think you are?"

"Calm down, both of you," Harry ordered in a firm and loud voice, giving Severus a small shake to make sure the struggling lad heard him. "Calm down!"

"He started it!" Severus yelled, though his voice shifted a bit and Harry realized that he may be close to tears.

"Severus, go up to your room now please," Harry told him. "We all need to calm down a bit. I'll come up in a moment to talk to you."

"But . . ." he argued, some of the venom creeping out of his voice and a note of anxiety creeping in.

"Go," Harry urged. "I need a cooler head to talk to you, and so do you. You can explain yourself when I come up."

Severus reluctantly agreed, pulling himself away from Harry and sending another scorching glare at Ron. He straightened his new clothes, now somewhat splattered from him launching himself across the table, and with as much dignity as he could muster he walked up to his room with the air of a prisoner to the gallows.


	6. Chapter 6 - Panicking

_AN: Just wanted to say that if there are any authors reading my story that I don't already follow let me know and I'd love to see your stuff. I have also been approached by some newer and uncertain writers a few times for advice and/or encouragement, and if that is something you'd like let me know! Just send me a PM. I had some very encouraging voices on this board when I first started, and I found it immensely valuable._

* * *

Harry looked at the other three adults standing beside the now wrecked table and found that they were unsure of how to start talking about what just happened. Harry suddenly felt much more like the adult in the situation than he'd ever felt.

"I'll make short work of this," Hermione said, pulling out her wand and repairing the dishes that had been pushed off the table and smashed.

"How could you, Ron?" Ginny asked, her cheeks pink.

"This is _my_ fault?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course!" she accused. "This isn't Percy that you're teasing, this is a sensitive and abused young boy. You provoked him."

"I was just teasing a bit, that's all!" Ron reacted defensively. "That does not give him a right to bloody paste me!"

"Bested by a nine-year-old," Harry clucked. "Poor, poor, Ron."

"You two are bloody in this together," he accused, glaring at Ginny and Harry.

"Three," Hermione snickered, floating the dishes to the sink.

"You're my wife!" he accused, looking for sympathy.

"And that makes me obligated to lie to you?" Hermione smirked. Then, more seriously, she continued, "You started out good with your instinct to be an uncle, but you have to realize this isn't one of your brothers who grew up in a large family with plenty of food and love. He's going to be a bit . . . fragile for a while."

"He's Severus Snape!" Ron objected. "The most evil and feared teacher since Salazar Slytherin!"

"He's a young boy," Harry corrected him firmly. "You need to get anything else out of your head, Ron. We need to let him be nine years old, not pay for his older counterpart making your potions class difficult."

"Are you going to smack him for this?" Ron asked, looking at Harry directly. "He bloody attacked me!"

"He did," Harry acknowledged. "And in other circumstances I probably would. But it's his first night, he's confused and scared, and there's an adult that is supposed to know better that is just as much at fault as he is. So unless I'm going to be putting you over my knee, I think I'm not doing it to Severus either."

"Harry!" Ron objected, but then cracked a smile. The picture of Harry trying to spank him was just too funny, and he began to see the ridiculous in the nine-year-old version of his potion master jumping over the table to punch him. "I guess you're right. I promise to work more on being the good uncle."

"You're right in that he needs to have fun," Harry conceded. "I think in some ways you're going to be better at that then I am because I have to be the parent. So maybe we work together?"

"Together," Ron agreed. "Like I'd let you smack me you big wanker."

Harry, looking up at his taller and more muscled friend, laughed too. "Do you need something for where he punched you?"

"He's just a little jugger," Ron shrugged, putting the back of his hand to the cheek that took the punch. "No strength behind it at all. I can barely feel it anymore; it was more startling than anything."

"Let's hope Severus cools down then too," Harry nodded. "Grettie?"

"Yes, Master Harry," she popped in front of him.

"Can you please make sure that Severus has a bath and gets into pajamas? I'm going to come talk to him in thirty minutes."

"Yes, Master Harry," she nodded, popping out just as suddenly.

"Hopefully a bath relaxes him a little," Harry smiled hopefully. "I really don't want to try to scold him when he's in high dudgeon."

. . .

Severus did not find the bath as relaxing as Harry had hoped. When the odd creature directed him towards the bathroom and even drew up a tub full of bubbles for him, his stomach twisted in fear. He had been pretty bad, attacking someone that his new guardian held as a dear friend, obviously. His own father would have beaten him bloody for such a thing, probably to the point that his mother would have needed to secretly heal him. And he would have been turned out of the house for a long time with no food or money to scavenge whatever he could. What would Harry do to him? Why was he bathing him first? Was he going to be shipped back to the infirmary at Hogwarts? An orphanage? Severus did not believe for one moment that there wasn't a harsh and unreasonable punishment awaiting him tonight.

His muscles did relax in the lavender-scented bubbles, and he found himself starting to feel sad that he couldn't continue living here. He had never even seen a bathtub this big, let alone be able to soak in one. And though the small creature tending him looked a little creepy, she was almost reassuring in her pleasant prattle and care.

"Your nice pajamas are here, dearie Master Severus," she cooed at him. "Grettie put them all out for you, she did. Right with this warm towel. You needs to get out now, Master Severus, Masters Harry will be up soon."

Severus' stomach flipped and he found his muscles tensing up again. The relaxation of the bath gone, he meekly obeyed the elf and got out of the tub, wrapping the warm and soft towel around his wet body. Just the feeling of the warm and soft towel made him feel as if he wanted to cry. Maybe if he got Harry to punish him instead, Harry would let him stay. He could take a beating – he had many times before – but this was the first place with soft towels. And warm food, and cutlery, and a soft bed . . .

Severus then hatched a hurried plan as he pulled on his new, soft pajamas and headed into the room. He would apologize, as his new guardian seemed to think it appropriate, and he would accept his punishment. Even ask for it if he had to; anything was better than being sent away to who knows where.

. . .

Harry knocked softly and then walked into Severus' room. He found himself a little trepidatious on what to expect from his young ward, would Severus be launching things at his head? He himself probably would have been weeping and repentant at this state of things, but then again he couldn't imagine launching himself at and attacking an adult like that when he was a child, he was too frightened of everything.

"How are you now, Severus?" Harry asked softly, looking at the young man sitting quietly on the bed.

"I am very sorry for attacking Mr. Weasley," Snape said, in the rehearsed tone of a young, scared child. "I'm ready to take my punishment for it."

"I don't want to punish you," Severus," Harry told him, his voice becoming concerned.

"Please, please punish me!" Severus begged, his face flushing and his voice becoming desperate. "I am so sorry; I want to stay. Please punish me instead!"

"Of course you're staying," Harry told him, confused. "I just want to talk to you a bit about manners."

"Please, please," Severus begged, his eyes beginning to tear up. "I'll be good, I promise! I'll never hit anyone again!"

"That's hard to believe," Harry snorted. "Come now, Severus, stop panicking. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then you're going to kick me out!" he nearly wailed in his despair. "Please, sir, I have nowhere else to go! Please beat me instead!"

"I'm not going to beat you!" Harry insisted with exasperation. "Didn't you hear me promise to always let you live with me?"

"I know I'm not the kind of child that people want," Severus admitted, biting his lip in consternation. "Please, I'll be what you want me to be. I can't help how I look, but I promise I'll be more obedient . . ."

Harry looked at this boy who was continuing to panic to the point where he wasn't thinking clearly, and made a decision. He wasn't rational and Harry's calm assurance wasn't helping him calm down at all, so maybe if he showed the boy that he wasn't really intending to belt him it would help. He reminded himself that this boy was completely unfamiliar with the concepts of forgiveness, mercy and kindness – not to mention measured, reasonable punishments given by a loving authority figure – so of course Harry saying he wasn't going to punish him wasn't going to make any sense.

"Alright then, you convinced me," Harry told the boy as he sat down next to him on the bed. "Put yourself over my lap."

Severus tearfully obeyed, sighing in relief that he had convinced Harry to punish him. Although going over his lap was awkward – he had only been smacked that way a few times when he was really small and wouldn't hold still enough – in some ways it actually made Severus feel safer. It was harder to cause real damage over someone's lap; the backside was really the only good place to strike. He cringed, though, waiting for Harry to remove his belt and to maybe even remove Severus' pajamas.

"If you do something that deserves a spanking, I will put you over my lap like this," Harry explained calmly. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, sir," Severus answered, slightly trembling.

"And then I would smack your bottom with either my hand, a ruler, or maybe a slipper," he told Severus. "It will sting a bit, but it won't bruise you or harm you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Severus answered, still just shaking a bit.

"I'm going to smack you once so you know what to expect from me," Harry told him. "If I decide to discipline you in this way you will probably receive between ten to twenty smacks if its with my hand, less if it's with something else. Okay? So I'm going to smack you just once tonight so you know what to expect."

Severus, not really understanding what Harry said, braced himself for the coming onslaught. Harry, seeing the fear and hoping his actions would help alleviate it a bit, brought his palm down firmly on his ward's backside. He didn't want to do it so soft that Snape didn't believe him, so he made the smack a decent one.

Severus gave a short intake of breath, and then braced for more.

"And then you come up," Harry indicated, gently encouraging him off his lap. "Then you can either sit on my lap for a time and have a cuddle or you can crawl into bed, whichever you prefer."

"Bed," Severus answered, confused. Cuddle? When was the beating going to start? He responded to Harry's guiding encouragement, and he found himself between soft sheets with a puffy blanket being placed over him.

"And that will be it," Harry told him. "No matter what you do, that's the worst I will ever punish you."

"Really?" Severus asked, suddenly calm enough to hear what Harry was telling him.

"Really," Harry nodded solemnly. "I would like to talk with you more about keeping your temper and I would like you and Ron to apologize to each other, but there will be no further consequences."

"Apologizing to Mr. Weasley is bad enough," Severus complained.

"Severus, you cannot go around attacking people," Harry chided gently. "But clearly he provoked you, and I'm sure you were feeling stressed being in a new place with people you don't know yet. So I'm choosing to be merciful this time, but please realize that if this happens again I will be forced to punish you more firmly."

"I'm not sure apologizing is better than that," Severus told him.

"Well, you can have a real spanking if you'd rather," Harry laughed. "But I thought that you would rather have a bit of mercy tonight."

"I suppose," he relented. "Was Professor Snape merciful to you?"

"Sometimes," Harry admitted. "Most of the time I felt that I deserved it as much as he did, and I didn't worry about it. Professor Snape was mostly very fair to me. I didn't even get the ruler until I was at Hogwarts – and I foolishly didn't ask for help and attempted to rescue one of my friends from a mountain troll, nearly becoming a troll snack in the process."

"Trolls eat kids?" Severus asked, his eyes wide.

"Not sure," Harry answered easily.

"What happened?" Severus asked.

"Well, it started when Ron insulted Hermione after she showed him up in class," Harry explained, smiling. "Hermione didn't have a lot of friends at first when she came, and was lonely. I think she was trying to make friends with us, and Ron called her a nightmare and a know-it-all. It was on Halloween, so Ron and I went to dinner and she went to the unused girls' toilet to cry. Well, we found out that someone had let in a mountain troll for a distraction, and I realized that he was right in the path of Hermione. So, I convinced Ron, who was already feeling pretty guilty, to come with me and save her. We managed to distract the Troll a bit, and by sheer dumb luck and bravery Ron was able to knock it out with its own club.

"We were saved! Well, until our head of house Professor McGonagall and my guardian Professor Snape showed up. Though McGonagall rewarded us for our Gryffindor like behavior, my father was not so happy about it. He said he got numerous gray hairs from the incident, and I got the ruler. He took me down to our rooms, bent me over his lap without so much as a lecture, and gave me ten hard swats, not letting up at all."

Severus' eyes grew round at the story, hard to believe that this young man before him had risked his life so foolishly and then his older counterpart had actually put him over his lap! And smacked him with a ruler for it! It was mind-boggling. "Did he put you to bed afterwards?" Severus asked.

"He did," Harry admitted. "He made me sleep down in my room in his quarters, he didn't let me go back up to the dormitory. But that wasn't after he held me tight on his lap for several minutes, threatening the strap if I ever scared him so badly again. He must have forgotten that bit, though, because when I crashed into the whomping willow in a flying car the following year I got the ruler again, not the strap. And I must have scared him just as bad that time too."

"Tell me about the time that you got the strap, sir," Severus asked politely, feeling a little more relaxed. Maybe this was a place that punishments weren't to be so dreaded, it sounded as if his older self had been very fair with his charge. And the part about him holding his ward tight – that part sounded strange but also strangely attractive. What would it be like if Harry wanted to hold him like that? Cuddle? He had offered to let him, so maybe Harry wouldn't be too repulsed by the idea.

"Would it make you feel safer to know how I got it?" Harry asked, grimacing. "It's not exactly a very flattering story about me."

"It would," Severus assured him. "Please."

"Alright, I'll tell you," Harry conceded. "But only if you promise to never do anything so foolish yourself."

"I promise!" Severus assured him.

"Lay back and I'll tell you," Harry told him, his voice like a benediction upon the young lad. "I can't believe this is your first bedtime story."


	7. Chapter 7 - The Strap

Harry sat on the cot provided in the jail cell nervously. An hour ago he and Ron had been given the instant sobriety potion by the warder, and since then his stomach had been twisting in fear. Part of it was the fear of what happened – how could he have been so foolish? The picture of the bar patrons he had hexed accidently flooded his brain, as well as the smashed glasses and slime everywhere. But the other part of his brain was twisting in fear of an entirely different thing. He had gotten drunk and nearly killed himself, and his father was going to kill him.

"There goes my apparition license," Ron groaned for the twelfth time. "She had warned me that I was on thin ice already; there's no bloody way I'm getting it now. My mum wouldn't want me to be able to apparate away from where she's beating me."

"At least it's the summer," Harry answered. "Hermione can't join in on the beating."

Ron groaned, rolling over on the cot. "I thought that potion was supposed to kill the hangover," he complained.

"Apparently it just kills the buzz," Harry grimly smiled back at him. "Though my head doesn't really hurt at all."

"I'm sure ol' Snape will make up for that," Ron teased. "You know, when the captain said he was calling our parents, I had half a mind to tell them to leave us here."

"That can be arranged, Mr. Weasley," came the darkly solemn voice of Professor Snape.

"Hello, sir," Ron greeted him reluctantly, wincing at his head.

Sighing, Snape withdrew a small potion vial from his robe and handed it to the boy. "We wouldn't want you to be distracted when your parents discuss your behavior with you," he told him as he watched the lad down the headache remedy. "Your father is just behind me, he's finishing his paperwork."

"Are they letting us go?" Harry asked, anxious.

"They are," Snape told him, turning his black and stern eyes on his son. "You both are underage and this is your first offence, so they are allowing you to be disciplined by your families. Though if you'd rather apply to stay here and serve out the usual sentence for drunk and disorderly conduct and property damage, then you may do that instead."

"What will be my punishment?" Harry gulped. He wondered if jail might be better after all.

"The strap," Snape told him evenly. "Perhaps a stroke for every drink you consumed last night?"

Harry gulped again, looking down in shame. His father had never used the strap on him, though it had been threatened a time or two.

"We weren't that bad," Ron protested weakly. "Just a few drinks, we had no idea those blokes would take everything so seriously . . ."

"According to the sergeant," Snape corrected. "You two could be charged with under-aged drinking, drunk and disorderly conduct, assault, and property damage to the bar. If you had committed these crimes as an adult these crimes would be considered much more severe. But even as a juvenile you could have been expelled from Hogwarts at the very least, if not gone to juvenile detention."

"But it's summer!" Harry protested. "They can't expel us in the summer!"

"They can," Snape growled firmly. "Now, there will be no further protests. The sergeant was a former student of mine, or I do not think you two would be let off so easily."

"How does being a former student help?" Harry tried a half-smile. "You aren't really a kind teacher; I'm sure you didn't go easy on him."

"No, but he knows I also won't go easy on you," Snape glared at him. "Here's Mr. Weasley now. Alright, boys, gather your things and we will walk out of the jail so we can apparate home."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed, glancing at Ron in mutual sympathy.

"I can't believe you, Ronald," Mr. Weasley growled himself. Harry thought, though, that Snape seemed far more intimidating when he growled at him. Mr. Weasley seemed more like a fussed hedgehog.

"Harry's getting the strap," Ron told his dad miserably. "I'm sorry, Harry, that you're getting such a harsh punishment."

"Don't be too sorry for him, you're getting the same thing," Mr. Weasley confirmed, though Harry could see him pale a bit at the idea. "The very idea that I would have to collect you from the auror station!"

Harry found himself jostled out of the station beside a blustering Mr. Weasley, and his own father's silence he found far more disturbing. Gone was the warmth he usually associated with time with his father, and he was replaced with a dark, silent man that Harry knew would soon be inflicting a painful punishment on him. Harry found his breathing jerk as his father put a hand on his shoulder, reading him to apparate away from Diagon Alley. He was in so much trouble. He didn't ever remember seeing his father this mad before, not for the troll, the flying car, or even sneaking into Hogsmeade when Sirius Black was trying to find him. He had been this angry when he found out about Professor Umbridge using the black quill on his person, but that time the anger hand not been directed at him but at the pink toad.

Harry also found himself worrying about the strap. It had always been held over his head as the worst punishment that his father would ever give him, but he hadn't ever gotten it before. He assumed it would hurt like nothing else for it to have been that much of a threat, and he could feel his stomach flipping at the prospect. True, he'd been smacked with a frying pan and cuffed numerous times by the Dursleys, but their abuse had mostly been neglectful in nature. The pain they caused was more along the lines of an empty belly and feeling under-loved, and he had a feeling the strap was going to be painful in a more acute manner.

But, he also reminded himself, he fundamentally trusted Professor Snape. He had given him many firm spankings during his youth, and he hadn't liked them one bit. But, he knew his father loved him, and he took them in stride. However, this time he found this situation far more frightening in nature than other times he'd been punished – to be honest, he'd never been this naughty before. And he also wondered about the personal angle for Snape – his father had been a drunk after all, and he knew that the younger Mr. Snape couldn't abide drinking at all.

"Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Weasley," Snape nodded to them with a certain note of irony in it.

"You too," the elder Mr. Weasley replied, his face set and grim.

. . .

Harry arrived home with his father, and he found himself solemn and quiet. Was his father going to just order him to bend over and begin whacking? He wasn't sure what to do. Always before his father had lectured, but this time he seemed silent.

"Erm, fourteen sir," Harry told him awkwardly.

"Fourteen what?" his father asked, his voice simmering.

"Fourteen drinks," Harry answered. "You had said about the strokes and the number of drinks . . . well, it was fourteen."

"That is quite a quantity of alcohol," Snape commented, his voice low.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered quietly, and then waited for the response. Nothing came from his father, and he found himself shifting from foot to foot. "It was over the course of a few hours. And I'm, er, sorry, sir," Harry said uncertainly.

"If you're not now you will be soon," his father replied in that low, threatening voice. However, instead of doing anything, he walked over to his desk and sat down at it, seemingly interested in some paperwork.

"Sir?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yes, Harry?" he asked, not looking up.

"Well, aren't you going to, well, you know . . ."

"I am," Snape told him. "Most assuredly. Right now I am trying to calm myself down enough that I can be reasonable about it."

"Oh," Harry replied.

"I am going to work on staying calm while you make your full confession," Snape told him firmly. "Anything you leave out can be used against you later."

"Really?" Harry gulped.

"I suggest that you start with you deciding to leave the safety of the Burrow unbeknownst to your hosts, and making your way to Diagon Alley."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed, decided he was just going to be honest. He would hate for something to come out later that he'd neglected to mention, and it sounded like he was going to be harshly punished anyways, so there wasn't much to lose. So he told Snape about Fred and George giving the younger boys some firewhiskey, and then under the haze of that alcohol they decided to go into Diagon Alley. "It was for ice cream, honestly," Harry tried to tell him. "But then when we got there Fred said he knew this place with really good cocktails that didn't ask your age, and then when we were low on money we went to the other place because they had cheap beer."

"And while certainly a punishable offence, I believe that you are still in the realm of typical misbehavior for your age group," Snape intoned with gravity. "However, it did not end there."

"I don't remember that part as well," Harry confessed. "It's all just kind of blurry then. I think that bit started when I threw up on that guy's shoes."

"You mean the one wearing a Hufflepuff scarf?" Snape helpfully supplied.

"Yes, him," Harry remembered. "He called me a wanker when I vomited on him, and Ron and the twins took offense."

"And how did it come to be that the entire patronage of the bar began to vomit slugs?" Snape asked solemnly. "Several of the patrons experienced much distress as a result, the aurors had to pass out calming potions."

"I think our aim was a bit off because of the alcohol," Harry confessed. "People laughed at first, and I think we didn't react to that laughter very well. At least it was a harmless hex?"

"Should I be happy that you didn't use the cruciatus?" Snape asked with sarcasm. "True, it is relatively harmless but it is still illegal. And quite unpleasant." Snape had to force himself not to let his lip twitch at all with the humor of the hex they chose. The Sergeant had been laughing as he showed the two fathers the pensieve memories of the bar, and Snape had to recognize the childishness in their actions. If that had been Snape at that age he knew there would have been serious injuries rather than a slimy cohort of multi-colored slugs slithering around.

"I suppose," Harry conceded.

"And the Weasley twins weren't caught?" Snape asked carefully. He appreciated Harry's honesty, if the boy had tried to lie it would be far worse.

"They apparated away," Harry explained. "They had side-longed us into Diagon Alley, but they couldn't get close enough to save us when the Aurors showed up. But don't tell their father – I don't want them getting in trouble as well."

"Rest assured he knows already," Snape told him. "Though it was probably good they apparated away because they are of age, the Sergeant was familiar with the Weasley family and recognized them from the descriptions given. He let their father know but chose not to pursue charges."

"I'm sorry," Harry ended lamely, knowing how lame that answer was. "For what it's worth, I really am."

"Perhaps some sober thought would have been productive before you chose to make so many foolish decisions," Snape told him darkly. "You know how I feel about alcohol."

"I do," Harry admitted, shamefaced. "I just thought, well, I suppose it doesn't matter much. But I guess I thought that maybe it wasn't as bad as you said it was. Everyone else seems to like it, so how bad can it be?"

"And now, what is your opinion?" Snape asked.

"Well, it started out as fun," Harry admitted. "But the crazy stuff and getting sick was bad. And the worst part was everything kind of felt out of control. Like I made an idiot out of myself and there's nothing I can do about it now."

"And in fact your making an idiot out of yourself can cost you dearly," Snape told him firmly. "And not just the strap. What if you'd been hurt? Killed? Lost your wand? Assaulted? Death Eaters would love to find you vulnerable and easy to attack such as you were last night, did you forget about them? For years I have seen the harsh consequences that this world deals out to people who drink like that."

"Is there a way to drink that it's okay?" Harry asked, curious.

"You can have a bit of wine or beer or cider with a meal," Snape told him. "I never do, however, because I find the odor of it has . . . unpleasant associations. But that is in a responsible way when you are of age, not what you did as an under-aged wizard. In this the Weasleys were not your friends in encouraging you to do this, but you made your own decision to participate. And then to have innocent bystanders as well as the poor pub owner then became victims of your choices – well, that was really criminal."

"It sounds really bad when you say it that way," Harry admitted.

"It was really bad," Snape confirmed.

"Could I talk you out of the strap?" Harry asked quietly.

"Oh, you're getting the strap," Snape assured him, trying to sound stern but in reality having to steel himself to deliver such a harsh consequence to his son. "You won't like it at all, but you will live. The strap doesn't cause the harm that the cane does, but you deserve something worse than the ruler for this. You're on the brink of manhood, Harry, you start your sixth year at Hogwarts in just a few weeks; I can't believe I'm having to correct as if you were still a boy. But correct you I certainly will – and if the strap keeps you from harming yourself and others, then it is my duty to apply it."

Harry looked down, nodding. He knew that his father was right, he had known better. He had even known in the corner of his brain that this would be the likely consequence, and yet still he had pushed it. He wished he could go back and make a different choice.

"Now you're ready for your punishment," Snape told him, studying his face. "That looks like actual remorse."

"I thought the punishment was supposed to make the person remorseful," Harry told him, a tiny flicker of a wry grin on his face.

"Only for young children," Snape answered. "Someone your age should be brought to remorse with logic."

"And then let a stern scolding serve as their punishment?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Go and take a quick bath and then into your pajamas," Snape directed, decided he felt calm enough. "And I mean quick. Then when you come down, you will bend over the arm of the couch," Snape directed, not making a move to get up himself.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered solemnly, then hurried to his bathroom. He realized at this point that any delay tactics on his part would only worsen his punishment, the best strategy is to do as you were told. Their house elf already had the bath waiting for him, Harry noticed with chagrin. His clothes smelled like smoke, alcohol, and the faint odor of vomit, so he gratefully slipped them off and slipped himself into the warm water. Harry knew better than to dawdle, however, so he quickly washed his hair and body, rinsing the soap off and then wrapping up in the warm towel. He pulled on his clean pajamas that had been left out for him, and then made his way back down to where he'd left his father and that dreaded couch.

"Now over the couch arm," Snape told him as he entered the room.

"Here?" Harry asked with trepidation, approaching the leather stuffed couch with wide, smooth arms. Usually he went over his father's lap.

"Yes," Snape told him.

"Now, from that position, I want to hear what you did wrong," Snape told him.

"I drank," Harry admitted, his voice cracking just a little. Even though his father was on the other side of the room, laying with his backside in the air like this was certainly enough to make him feel like an idiot. "And, you know, assault and all of that. Not thinking that I could get hurt."

"I'm glad you understand the problem," Snape told him, gracefully rising from his chair and walking over to where Harry waited for him. He steeled himself to seem calm and stern, but actually his stomach was twisting as much as Harry's was. Though he knew that the boy deserved this and probably worse for his actions, it pained him to be the one to deliver it. He had felt his father's belt far to often in his childhood, and had hoped never to feel as if he had to apply it to Harry. But alas, that was not the case. "And now for your correction."

Harry bit his lip to keep from protesting again, he knew that he deserved this. In a lot of ways getting the strap was probably the least of what could have happened to him – jail, being hurt, being captured by death eaters . . . he suddenly realized that Snape was actually right. He had been completely foolish.

"All this remorse," Snape told him. "It's coming off you in waves. But, it won't stop your punishment. Now hold still, I believe the count is fourteen."

Harry nodded, his stomach flipping and his lips nearly numb with anticipation, and he concentrated on looking at the faded smoothness of the chair cushion. He heard Snape remove his belt, and he couldn't even look at it.

And then the first strike fell, and Harry cried out from the force of the blow. This hurt way worse than the ruler! He gasped at the shock of it.

"One," Snape told him ruthlessly. Then, and other blow, and he said, "Two."

Harry managed to remain somewhat stoic through six, with sobs coming around eight. Snape continued, though, not letting up a bit through the count of fourteen. Harry did his best to lay still, but by the end his feet were kicking with every blow and tears were streaming down his face.

"It's done, Harry," he said softly after the last blow. He carefully buckled his belt back on, and then went over to the couch. He felt numb in a way himself – he had never thought he would punish his child in such a way. But when he thought of what could have happened to Harry while he was so foolishly making himself vulnerable, well, he decided to give the boy an adequate reason to not risk himself again. Though he loved the boy with fierce devotion, he could also be just as ruthless about his safety – even if it meant punishing him to the point that he wouldn't dare endanger himself like that again. Snape quietly sat down on the other end of the sofa, waiting for Harry to be ready.

Harry pushed himself up off the couch, wiping his eyes and not yet having enough courage to touch his backside. It hurt, and it hurt badly, but there was also a part of him that was really glad that it was over at least. Now he could get comfort and assurances, which Snape always gave him after a punishment.

Wordlessly, Harry crept beside his father onto the couch that had a cushioning charm already applied, and Harry curled up beside him just as he had when he was a child. Snape put his arm around the teen, breathing deeply.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Snape asked diplomatically.

"I'll live," Harry sniffed. "But you didn't have to do it so hard."

"Yes, I did," Snape told him. "It needed to be hard enough that it could convince you to never break that or any other safety rule again. There's too much brewing, Harry, we can't throw the Dark Lord any advantage."

"I won't do it again," Harry promised him.

"You frightened me," Snape told him, nodding at the promise. Snape found himself clasping Harry a little more firmly and feeling vulnerable himself. "I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

"I'm sorry," Harry told him, choking a bit.

"Yes, you are," Snape agreed. "Let's remember this, both of us."


	8. Chapter 8 - Hot Chocolate

_AN: Thanks to reviewer Chrissysmiles for some suggestions to this chapter and collaboration on thinking about Harry as a Dad and the Weasley family (in a later chapter). Thanks for reading! Also, the later chat in this chapter was one I had originally planned for Harry, but then decided he needed some space to grieve and Severus needed some exposition. Let me know how you think of Ron in this role._

* * *

After Harry had explained as much as he could about the time he got the strap from Professor Snape, Severus realized that Harry had wanted to say something more but for some reason wasn't able to do so.

"I really respected him very much," Harry told him softly. "He was really the only father I ever knew. And now I realize that disappointing him actually hurt me more than the strap did that time."

"But it did hurt," Severus confirmed.

"Like the dickens," Harry grimaced a bit at the memory. "That was the last time he ever disciplined me in that way, and I was much relieved."

"He was nice to you afterwards," Severus noticed.

"He always was," Harry smiled. "He was not very used to cuddling children, but we worked out a system that worked for us."

"Did you like having him as your guardian?" Severus asked quietly, looking down.

"Very much," Harry answered. "I mean, he was strict and all. But, most of the time we got along really well, and we cared deeply for each other. After the Dursleys, well, after where I was before, maybe strict didn't feel so bad. I always felt as if he was looking out for me anyways, and that he really cared who I was and how I was growing up."

Severus was silent then, contemplating the information he had received from Harry. Harry could see that, and the heaviness in his gaze. The boy needed his sleep.

"We can talk more tomorrow," Harry told him, patting his shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "The headmistress told me not to tell you too much of your future self, but some stuff is going to be hard not to tell you."

"Was I evil or something?" Severus asked, his eyes wide.

"No, not evil," Harry smiled. "But also complicated. We'll talk about that more as you get older, how does that sound?"

"Okay," Severus nodded. "But I don't want to go to Hogwarts with everyone knowing more about Professor Snape then me."

"Deal," Harry told him. "I'll tell you the important stuff before Hogwarts. But for now, it's time for bed."

Severus allowed himself to be tucked in, and tried not to flinch as Harry patted his head softly. "Sleep well, Severus," Harry told him. "My room is just next door if you should need me during the night."

"Okay," Severus answered, finding himself feeling suddenly sleepy. Maybe it had just been a combination of a long day and a very comfortable bed, but Severus realized he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

"Good night."

Within a few blinks, Severus' eyes closed and his breathing deepened.

Harry looked at the boy for a minute, wondering for the hundredth time that day how it was possibly going to work for him to parent this child. But also, looking at the face of the boy that looked suspicious and rebellious when awake, gained some youthful softness as he slept. He still wasn't what Harry would think of as an attractive child, but he saw a vulnerability there that made his heart warm. With a heavy heart, he descended the stairs to where his loving friends awaited him.

. . .

Severus woke with a start not long later, confused as to where he was. Blinking and throwing off the unfamiliar blanket, he began to remember the events of the previous day. Feeling strange and uncomfortable in these clean pajamas and clean, strange skin he crawled out of his bed and opened the door. Hearing muffled voices coming from downstairs, he crept down the dark hallway, past the creepy, dusty portraits and to the stairs. Praying that none of the stairs would squeak, he gently and quietly stepped down the stairs. Halfway down the stairs the voices became more audible, so he crouched on the stairs to see what he could overhear. Apparently his guardian was talking, and it was about him. Of course.

"I know it's not his fault," he heard Harry say with emotion. "I know. But I miss my Dad so much . . ."

"Of course," Hermione answered. "Of course. Nobody would think differently."

"How am I supposed to do it?" Harry asked again, his voice cracking with emotion. "I look at that boy and I know where he's been, and I know what he expects. And I also know what lies before him . . . how am I supposed to change that?"

"You're not alone in this," Ginny told him. "You have a lot of help."

"I know," Harry acknowledged. "I know. So why do I feel the weight of it all on me?"

"You don't have to be the hero in this," Ginny told him. "You've already saved the world, you don't have to save Snape as well."

"Ginny's right," Hermione agreed. "You don't have to save him. You don't have to worry about what's coming – there is no Lily, no Death Eaters, no Dark Lord. He can just be a normal little boy."

"You're right," Harry told them, his voice thick. "So why is is that all I want to do is to talk to my Dad?"

Severus heard crying then, sobs of real grief. He heard the women making comforting sounds towards Harry, soothing him, reassuring him. Severus couldn't make out what they were saying as well, but he also found himself less inclined to try and pry further. He hadn't thought as much what this was like for his guardian; the man had essentially lost his father.

"Get an earful?" he heard a voice behind him ask.

"No!" Severus automatically jumped, leaping up and facing the man that had snuck up behind him.

"No?" Ron asked, his voice ironic. "Then sitting at this part of the stairs was just a comfortable spot?"

"Um, yes, I guess so," Severus answered, flustered.

Ron smirked at him, clearly not believing him.

"And what are you doing lurking around up here?" Severus asked him, deciding to go on the attack.

"The girls handle the grief thing better than I do," Ron answered honestly. "I mean, after the war – well, we all had a lot to grieve, you know? But with Harry and I, well, I think if I were there he'd feel like he had to keep it together more. I thought it best he could talk with Hermione and Ginny alone and, you know, get it all out."

"So you thought you'd lurk up here and scare me to death?" Severus asked, glaring.

"You wouldn't have been scared if you hadn't been spying," Ron told him, his voice sterner.

Severus' snark then turned to self-preservation. He was alone in the hallway with this man – this man much larger than himself – and one he had just a few hours ago completely attacked.

"I was just going down . . ." he began, trying to look innocent.

"No use trying it on with me," Ron told him with a sigh. "Let's get you back to your room and let Harry grieve in peace."

Severus reluctantly obeyed, giving Ron a wide berth as he headed back to his room.

"I'm not going to beat you, you know," Ron said as he saw the boy skirt him, trying to stay out of harm's reach.

"You're not?" Severus asked, his eyes wary.

"Nope," Ron answered, following him to his room. "Not even spank you if you deserve it. Harry's yer dad, I'm the uncle. Not my job."

Severus didn't know how to respond to this, but realized that Ron was following him back to his room.

"Then what are you going to do?" Severus asked with some fear in his voice.

"Oh something much worse than that," he smirked. "Now get back in your bed, mister. And don't get out again unless it's for the loo, right?"

"Alright," Severus agreed, watching the man carefully.

"Kreacher?" Ron called out. "Two hot chocolates, please."

"Hot chocolate?" Severus asked, his eyes going big. Whatever he had been expecting from this person that wasn't it.

"I know this is all new to you," Ron acknowledged. "And I know you don't know any of us from Merlin. But spying is definitely not okay."

"So you're punishing me with hot chocolate?" Severus asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Not everything is a punishment," Ron sighed, smirking a little. "C'mon, man, I'm trying to be relatable here."

Severus eyed him closely and said nothing, pulling the blanket over himself in unconscious protection. He eyed the young man suspiciously. Why would this man be kind to him when he jumped over the table to attack him earlier? This had to be part of a larger subterfuge.

Kreacher popped in with two cups of frothy hot chocolate, and Ron took one and placed it at Severus' bedside and took one for himself.

"Thanks, Kreacher," Ron nodded to him, and he popped away a second later. "Drink up, young lad, and then you're going back to sleep."

Severus took the cup but didn't drink it, waiting to see if Ron did it first. Oblivious to the youngster's suspicion, Ron blew a bit on the cup and took a sip of the rich chocolaty drink. He leaned back, clearly settling himself into the soft chair beside Severus' bed. With a moan, he pulled up his leg to rest on the other.

"Are you staying here?" Severus asked.

"For a bit," Ron answered. "I expect you have some questions; thought I could be of some use."

Severus thought of that, and decided to try a sip of the hot chocolate as he thought. The hot chocolate was indeed good, and Severus couldn't detect any flavor of anything untoward in the cup. The flavor of the hot chocolate was warm and soft, and it reminded him of the chocolate Harry had bought him. He felt a twinge of conscious at that thought, though he didn't really understand why.

"Is he okay?" Severus asked.

"He'll be right," Ron assured him. "It's just a lot to cope with, you know. Professor Snape was his family and he really loved the man."

"Was it my fault?" Severus asked. "I mean, Harry wants his father and instead he got me."

"I suppose," Ron agreed. "But it was Professor Snape that made the mistake, not you. I don't see how anybody could think it was your fault."

Severus sipped the chocolate again, liking how it warmed his stomach. He began to feel sleepy again, and the question he really wanted to ask popped into his head, and his resistance to it was very little. "Why was he crying?" he asked.

Ron snorted a bit. "Let me guess," he told him. "Your father was the type that said only girls cry and that blokes had to be all tough, didn't he?"

"Yes," Severus said, assuming Ron would say the same thing but wondering at Ron's tone.

"It's dead wrong," Ron told him. "I used to believe that too. I have a lot of older brothers, right? They'd take the mickey right out of you if they saw you cry. My mum, well, she told me not to listen and that real men had emotions. But who was I going to believe? So I tried to be tough too. And then, well, and then one of those brothers died."

"Your brother died?" Severus asked, his eyes wide.

"He did," Ron admitted, his face clouding. "My brother Fred. He had a twin; George. I want you to take you to meet George, you'll like him."

"Oh," Severus breathed, sipping the chocolate because he didn't know what to say.

"It was the final battle of the war against Voldemort," Ron told him. "It was the one where Professor Snape nearly bought it too. When I saw his body, well, I decided I didn't care who called me a girl at that point; I cried. Harry needed to cry too."

"But you're . . ." Severus started, and then didn't know how to say it.

"Tough?" Ron smirked. "A bloke? Well, we cry too."

"Is he going to keep me?" Severus asked quietly, quiet enough that Ron could pretend he didn't hear it if he wanted to.

"Of course," Ron snorted at him. "He's as loyal as they come; there's nothing you could do to make him quit on you. But take a care to watch yourself, mister. Harry will love and care for you, but he was also raised by you. How many shenanigans do you think your adult self would put up with?"

Severus thought about that, taking another sip of the chocolate. "Probably not a lot," he admitted.

"Exactly," Ron answered. "Professor Snape taught me for many years, and let me say he had somewhat of a reputation for being one of the hardest and strictest professors Hogwarts had ever seen."

"Really?" Severus asked, finding himself somewhat impressed.

"I'd have been dead scared of him if I hadn't known him as Harry's dad," Ron nodded. "I swear he had eyes on the back of his head, and his detentions were the stuff of legends. Nobody crossed him, even Fred and George gave him a wide berth and they were notorious pranksters with a thing for getting Slytherin."

"Wow," Severus blinked. Somehow thinking of himself as a feared and respected professor that inspired such fear in his students actually sounded pretty good to him. His image of himself as a dirty and nothing urchin that nobody loved was certainly different than how Ron viewed his adult self.

"Harry's the good sort, you know," Ron continued. "He'll do his best by ya, but part of that best will be in making you mind. And if you are anything like your adult self, I'm expecting some fireworks."

"Fireworks?"

"Fireworks," Ron confirmed. "Now, it's your first night so your spying is just between us for tonight. But next time I catch you we're going straight to Harry, right?"

"Alright," Severus reluctantly agreed. He did not for one minute plan on obeying Ron, but he realized he was going to have to be more careful.

"You're done with your chocolate," Ron observed, taking the empty cup from him. "Now tuck in and get some sleep. I'll sit with you a moment until you do. My mum used to sit with me sometimes if I awoke, so I'm afraid you're getting the Weasley family treatment tonight."

"She probably just wanted to make sure you didn't get out of bed," Severus told him grumpily.

"Probably," Ron agreed affably. "Off to sleep now, young rascal."

And with that, Severus blinked heavily and soon he was asleep.


	9. Chapter 9 - Scared

The next morning Severus found himself staring at a very odd-shaped item on his plate. "What is this?" he whispered to Harry, who was sitting beside him.

"He calls them flapjacks," Harry whispered back. "Ron likes to make them into shapes for us. I think yours is supposed to be an 'S' for Severus."

"Oh," Severus answered, watching Harry put golden syrup on his and then following suit. He didn't think it looked much like an S either, but at least it smelled good. He surreptitiously watched Harry eat his own mangled "H" and imitated his motions, careful not to drip onto his clean and new t-shirt.

As Severus watched Harry eat he thought about the night before, of hearing the story of Harry getting the strap from Professor Snape and the implications he gleaned from the story. The story was definitely one of Harry acting out and receiving a punishment, but he was impressed at how reasonable Professor Snape had been about it. Yes, it had been harsh, but it was also delivered in a measured, non-angry fashion, and he comforted Harry afterwards. How had he learned to do that? It certainly wasn't part of his childhood. He was also struck that although Harry had feared the punishment, it didn't seem as if he feared Professor Snape. He had even asked for mercy from the strap, showing that there was an expectation that he might have been able to get it. Had Harry actually liked having him as a father? The thought boggled.

And then there was the maker of the deformed flapjacks – he did not have Ron figured out at all. He seemed to be so smug and mean – but then he was kind to him last night. The hot chocolate had been entirely unexpected, as well as his not telling Harry about him spying. Severus did not for one moment believe that any adult could be trusted, but he found himself confused as to their motivations.

And then there were the women – Ginny, who seemed eager to please and have Severus like her. And then there was Mrs. Weasley – the one with the curly hair and uncomfortable questions. He realized she was the real threat, and knew that she would figure out his secret sooner or later. He looked down in shame at that realization, wishing against the inevitable. At least, he reasoned, if Harry began to like him before he found out the truth, then maybe he wouldn't be disgusted with him. Severus finished his breakfast thoughtfully.

"I told Severus about the time we got the strap," Harry told Ron, smiling. "But I think even the memory of it smarts."

"Ouch!" Ron winced at the memory. "That's the only time I got the strap from my father, too. Man, that was awful."

"You both deserved it and you know it," Hermione told them, smiling herself. "Imagine that sort of behavior when we were about to fight a war!"

"Did the twins get it too?" Harry asked, realizing he'd never asked.

"Oh yeah," Ron agreed. "They were just as guilty; they started it! Just because we got arrested and they didn't sure didn't mean they got off for it."

"But they were of age!" Hermione protested. "I mean, I thought that those types of punishments were for children."

"They weren't so 'of age' that they didn't still get consequences," Ron laughed. "I believe if they hadn't accepted their punishment than Mum would have marched them straight down to the Auror station."

"I think they felt a bit bad about it too," Ginny added. "I mean, if Ron and Harry had gotten the strap and not them, well, they weren't the sort that would just sit back and be fine with that. I don't think they even protested much when Dad told them what their punishment was going to be."

"It's hard to imagine your father doing it," Harry told him, eating his strawberries.

"Oh yeah, it was hard on him," Ron laughed. "He was all business though. He lined us up, all three in his workshop, and we each took turns bending over his table and getting it. I went first, and I didn't realize at the time that that was kind of him. It's way harder watching your brother get it when you know you're next. He gave us each six of the best."

"I got fourteen!" Harry protested, laughing. "That is completely unfair!"

"It was all my dad could do to give us six," Ron laughed. "He was pale and sweating by the end, my mum had to give him a calming draft. I think Professor Snape had no problems being strict with you, I mean, he was Professor Snape – torturer of schoolchildren. Though my dad did do a proper job; George reckons he did it harder on them and they felt it afterwards for a week."

"I did feel it for a few days afterwards," Harry admitted. "But given what we were doing, I think we got off pretty easy."

"George didn't think so," Ron smirked.

Severus found himself smiling at the two young men and their grudging respect for the stern father he had been.

"George was having you on," Ginny insisted. "He was on his broom again the next day, he was fine. Though we could certainly hear you from the house."

"You could?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Mum told us not to tell you, that you'd be embarrassed," Ginny laughed at her brother. "I thought the twins would be tougher, but they howled as much as you did."

"Maybe today we can go and visit George and Ron at work," Harry told Severus, still smirking. "Ron works at a joke shop with his brother George, and we thought that might be a good first person to meet outside of our house."

Severus nodded, his mouth full of the syrupy flapjack.

"You'll like George," Ginny told him, spooning some cut strawberries onto her plate. "He's very funny. But be careful about any candy he offers you – it might turn your hair blue or your fingernails glow or something."

"Glow?" Severus echoed, swallowing.

"Just check with me before eating it," Harry laughed. "It's not too bad usually, and I'll let him know not to prank you this first time he meets you, okay?"

"Okay," Severus agreed.

"This morning I'd like to do some educational assessments," Hermione announced, popping her last strawberry in her mouth. "Looks like you're done with your breakfast, so now's a good time."

"What is that?" Snape asked, his face darkening.

"Just some tests to see where you are academically," Hermione told him cheerfully. "I'm sure you're fine, but I just want to make sure we know where you might need to catch up a bit to be ready for Hogwarts."

"I can't go there yet," Severus answered her. "The Headmistress insisted."

"There's a lot you need to know before you go," Hermione explained. "Hogwarts doesn't teach the basics of maths and language; it's expected you know it before you come. So I wanted to make sure you were caught up."

"I don't want to," Severus told her, his face downcast.

"Don't worry, it's not a big deal," Hermione told him. "Come with me into the study, I have stuff all laid out."

"I haven't really been to school . . ." Severus began.

"I know that," Hermione told him cheerfully. "Don't worry about it. Professor Snape was highly intelligent, so if we find any deficits it shouldn't be hard to catch you up in no time."

"Go on," Harry urged. "Do her stuff now. I have to run to the office for a few minutes this morning anyway. I'm taking a few weeks off because of, well, parenthood; but I promised that I would finish filing a few things before the break. Now's a good time."

"But . . ." Severus began.

"No arguing," Harry told him, his voice becoming a little stern. "This is something that's important, Severus. Nobody likes tests, but Hermione is trying to help you. Now, we have a fun afternoon planned so just do what you need to do this morning and then we can enjoy our time together. Okay?"

"Yes, sir," Severus mumbled, looking down.

"Good," Harry smiled. "It's Ron's turn for dishes today, so I'm going to head in now. The sooner I'm gone the sooner I get back. I'll see you this afternoon, okay Severus?"

Severus nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He watched Harry disappear via the fireplace, and his eyes widened at that ability. How did that work?

"How was he able to do that?" he asked Ron in amazement.

"There's a wizard transportation system," Hermione answered for Ron, whose mouth was full. "It's called the floo network, and you can get around to any place that has a fireplace hooked up. From here we can get to Hogwarts, the ministry, Diagon Alley, lots of places. You just do what Harry did, using the floo powder there."

"I think Harry even convinced Professor Snape to finally attach Spinner's End," Ginny added cheerfully. "It's made it easier because you couldn't apparate there."

"But it's off limits to under-aged wizards without permission," Ron told Severus, eyeing him closely. "No popping over to the candy shop, it's not safe."

"Okay," Severus nodded, though his mind was calculating the possibilities.

"Definitely," Ginny agreed. "The first time Harry used the floo he ended up in the unsavory part of Diagon Alley and had to be rescued. It's not something to fool around with."

"Let's get to work," Hermione told him cheerfully. "We can do the floo this afternoon."

Severus was beginning to panic, how was he going to handle this situation? Obviously he was going to have to create some sort of distraction, but how? How would he keep Hermione at bay? She seemed to be a very determined young woman.

"I could help you with the dishes, Mr. Weasley," Severus offered, looking for anything.

"Go on with Hermione," Ron snorted. "I got this." Ron removed his wand and began sending their dishes into the kitchen for Kreacher to wash.

Severus followed Hermione reluctantly, and eyed the papers on the desk. He forced himself to continue to think of a solution, though he wanted to run out of the room and hide. Maybe he could go to the loo?

"We'll start easy," she told him with a smile. "What do you want to do first? Maths or English?"

Professor Snape would have found a solution to the situation involving cunning and forethought. However, his younger self was thinking furiously and could not come up with a solution, and so he took the option available to a nine-year-old.

"Easy for you, you bushy haired harpy!" he yelled. "I'M NOT DOING IT!"

Hermione, shocked at the child yelling and assuming he was scared, reached out a hand to his shoulder to comfort him. Severus, flinching like he had with Harry, reared back and balled his fists in anger. His fist flew forward on its own, connecting with Hermione's shoulder, and nearly knocking her down with the shock of it.

"YOU BLOODY BITCH!" he yelled again, rage taking over, the words coming from those he'd heard is entire childhood. "I'M NOT DOING IT!"

Then, Severus felt Ron grab him from behind by taking a huge handful of his shirt and pulling him up, basically making his gangly limbs fall like a puppet on a string. He tried to reach around and grab Ron, but Ron held him at arm's length, effectively disarming him.

"Send a Patronus for Harry," he directed at Hermione. "We'll need him home to deal with this one."

"I think he might be scared . . ." Hermione wondered as she wordlessly sent the Patronus. "He didn't really hurt me."

"He hit you," Ron answered flatly. "If that's not enough to earn some more direct discipline I don't know what is."

Severus, instantly freezing when he heard what Ron said, gulped in fear. What had he done? He had simply wanted a distraction and now he had jumped straight into the fire. What was Harry going to do?

"I'm here," Harry called from the floo. "What happened?"

"Over here," Ron called to him. "In the Study."

Harry came in anxiously, and then calmed to see that Ron had effectively disabled his young charge. "Is everyone okay?" he asked.

"Fine," Hermione told him. "I think Severus is scared about something about me testing him, and he reacted to it."  
"What did he do?" Harry asked, his voice becoming sterner.

"Yelled mostly," Hermione answered. "I tried to touch his shoulder and he flinched, and then punched me in the shoulder. It wasn't hard, but it startled me."

"You hit Hermione?" Harry asked, his voice even more stern.

Severus didn't reply, but tried squirming a bit against Ron's steady grip.

"Answer me," Harry said sternly.

"Yes, sir," Severus answered quietly.

"And you yelled at her?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Severus answered.

"He called her a few right nasty names as well," Ron told him. "My mum would have washed my mouth out with soap for that last one."

"Why?" Harry asked, befuddled. "She was just trying to help you."

Severus then didn't answer, the shame of the reason why worse than the punishment Harry was surely going to give him.

"You've earned a smacking," Harry sighed, disappointment heavy in his voice. "Go to your room, I'll be there presently."

Ron let go of Severus' shirt then, and the child tried to straighten up with some dignity. His cheeks burned with shame.

"Go on," Ron urged him. "Once you've earned it, best to cooperate so it doesn't get any worse. Don't worry, Harry won't kill you."

Severus silently then walked to his room, looking behind him. His stomach tied itself in knots, though his brain was starting to formulate a plan.

. . .

"You shouldn't smack him," Hermione argued down in the study. "Harry, we need to find out why he was so scared."

"It doesn't matter," Ron argued back. "He can't go around yelling and hitting people! Give him a good smacking, he'll have a good cry, and then he'll be much more willing to tell us why he was scared."

"But he's just gotten here . . ." Hermione argued.

"We need to begin as we intend to go on," Ron argued back.

"Harry, what would Professor Snape do?" Ginny asked, trying to be the calm one in the discussion.

Harry knew what the Professor would have done, and knew what he had to do now. "Hermione," Harry sighed. "Ginny is right. I want to handle this how Professor Snape would have. I know for a fact I would have been over his knee for it, but then we would have had a long talk and discussed it not happening again. I have to believe that's what would work on Severus now."

"But Harry," Hermione said, her concern shifting. "Can you do it? I mean, after last night . . ."

"I can do it," Harry nodded. "Part of being his father is being his father, and I have to do things I don't want to do."

"Use your hand," Ron advised him. "He doesn't rate a ruler or anything. You just need to show him you're in charge, and for right now that should be the worst of it."

Harry nodded, knowing his friend was right. "Wish me luck," he told them, and headed up to Severus' room.

Harry mounted the stairs with trepidation, his heart heavy. Was this what it had been like for his father to discipline him? How was Severus going to be – still defiant or crying in terror? Harry softly knocked and then opened the door to the newly cleaned room.

It was empty.


	10. Chapter 10 - Spinner's End

"He's gone," Harry announced, hurrying down the stairs.

"Where could he have gone?" Hermione asked, suddenly worried. "Is there a spell, or . . ."

"We should ask Grettie," Ginny interjected. "House elves keep track of children."

"They do?" Harry asked, surprised. "I mean, if they did, how did we get away with so much at Hogwarts?"

"They are loyal to children," Ginny explained. "So they don't snitch unless they have to, but they will help a parent find them. How do you think Dobby always knew where Harry was?"

"Great," Harry acknowledged, relieved. "Grettie?"

"Yes, Masters Harry," she chirped, popping in the room.

"Do you know where Severus has gone?" Harry asked.

"Masters Severus is gone to Spinners End, sir," she answered, somewhat reluctantly.

"How did he get there?" Harry asked, shocked.

"The floo," Ron groaned. "I should have known telling him not to use it would make it that much more attractive."

"Great," Harry groaned. "I was hoping to introduce him to his old house gradually. How do you think it's going to be for him to see how much it's changed?"

"Go get him," Ron told him. "He's probably in full panic mode by now."

"Do you need help?" Hermione asked him grimly.

"I'll send a Patronus if I do," Harry told her, stepping towards the Floo. "Wish me luck. Spinners End!"

"Good luck," they muttered after he had vanished in a flash of light and a puff of soot.

Harry coughed a bit as he stepped out of the fireplace at Spinner's End, and immediately began scanning the house for the young Severus. It pained him a bit to be here, as he felt the presence of his father so acutely. This house felt like his father and smelled like him, but he put that pang aside to locate the young Severus Snape.

Harry found the boy rather quickly, curled up in a ball in the corner of what Harry assumed had been his bedroom, though had been the room Harry had grown up in. Harry recognized the position he was in – it was the position of protecting your softer parts from an attacker.

"Hi Severus," Harry said softly, breaking the deathly silence of the house.

The boy didn't respond beyond a very helpless sniff.

"Well, I see you've found the Floo," Harry told him, advancing slowly on the boy. He felt as if he were approaching a skittish colt, and that at any moment the boy would bolt.

Severus shrugged his shoulders, not being able to look up or to uncurl from his position. He trembled a bit, being in this house and having it be so different but still the same. How much pain had this room witnessed? Was the residue of his pain and his cries somehow stuck in the wallboards?

Harry sat down cross-legged by the boy, still out of arm's reach, and just sat there for a moment, letting the child acclimate to his presence. He saw the boy's body tremble, and felt self-recrimination that he would be scared of him. Had he been too harsh on the child?

"Are you okay?" Harry asked softly.

Severus shrugged again, not wanting to give too much away. "The house is different."

"Yes, it is," Harry answered. It was actually much different than when he had first gotten here as well. Severus hadn't cared enough about it to keep it up before, but when Harry came he had made an effort to improve it. That, and the house elf Dumbledore had insisted on providing to help with Harry's care had insisted on transforming the grubby, worn house into something at least more habitable. And, over the years, it had actually transformed into a home that was fairly warm and inviting.

"It's very real now," Severus told Harry. "I thought maybe if I came back here my . . . my father would be here. But you're right, he's gone."

"He is," Harry assured him. Then, as neutrally as possible, he asked, "Did you want him to be here?"

"No," Severus answered. "But it would at least have been familiar."

"I see," Harry answered, and he really did.

"I guess I'm getting a hiding," said said softly with resignation.

"Do you think you deserve it?" Harry asked, surprised that the child seemed to accept his fate so easily.

"Of course," Severus replied, but with less sarcasm and more sadness than Harry had expected. "I'm as bad as my father."

"You've seen your father do that before," Harry surmised. "The words you used were words you heard him use."

"Many times," Severus admitted. "I never thought I would hit a woman. My fist just kind of went and she was there. I didn't mean to do it."

"I know," Harry sighed. "But can you tell me why you didn't want to go with Hermione? You know she wasn't going to hurt you."

"I know," Severus agreed glumly. "I just didn't want her to find out."

"Find out what?" Harry asked, confused.

Severus sighed again. "I don't want to tell you," he said pointedly.

"Look, Severus," Harry leveled with him, his voice becoming more firm. "I really don't have a choice about whether or not to punish you for this, but I do have a choice at how. I could give you your smacking now and talk later or talk first. But let me be clear, you are going to tell me about this, even if I have to stand over you with a ruler for you to cooperate with Hermione's testing. Do you want that?"

"No," Severus admitted.

"Then make your choice on how you want to proceed."

Severus then looked up at Harry, calculating. Harry had said that he wouldn't use the belt, and he doubted that Harry could hurt him as bad as his father had. Could he just take his lumps and keep his secret intact?

"You can't make me," Severus replied succinctly, his fear occluded and trying to appear braver and more insolent than he felt.

Harry sighed, seeing the calculation. "Then come here," Harry ordered him, his voice calm but with an edge to it. "I can administer your punishment first if that is what you insist."

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, clearly beckoning the child to bend over his lap.

"I can take a hard punishment," Severus told him, not moving and still calculating. "I'm not a baby to be put on someone's lap."

"Being bent over a lap isn't because you're a baby," Harry explained. "It helps to have some contact. The only time Professor Snape didn't have me bend over his lap was when I got the strap, and I think that was more about logistical issues. It's hard to swing a strap properly on someone on your lap."

"You aren't listening to me!" Severus flared. "I am not a baby! And I told you I didn't want those tests! You just told me to do it, and your friend Mrs. Weasley did too! I told you!"

"So you did," Harry agreed. "But sometimes you don't get to control those things. Now unless you want to talk first, come over here and we'll get on with this." Perhaps the anxiety of his punishment was part of the problem, if Harry could just punish him and show him that he wouldn't abuse him, then maybe the boy could calm down enough to tell him what the problem was.

"I don't want you to smack me!" Severus insisted, though he did stand up.

"I thought you could take a hard punishment," Harry said to the boy, cocking an eyebrow in an uncanny imitation of the professor. "If that is true than a simple smacking should be no problem at all. I'm only using my hand, after all."

"I still don't want it," Severus told him, though he took a step forward.

"I know," Harry agreed, but didn't move towards the lad. "So talk or bend over."

Severus considered not going over to his guardian, but he could more or less guess how this game would be played out. His guardian would lose patience, grab him, and beat him. As that horrible Weasley said, once it was decided it was wiser to comply. Then why was it so hard? It was just a hand on his backside, for Merlin's sake. He forced his legs to walk.

"Good," Harry praised him, reaching up and guiding the child over his lap much as his father had done years ago.

. . .

"Come here, Potter," his guardian had intoned sternly. "You knew better than that, and your consequence will be a smacking."

"But . . ." Harry protested.

"You have only been in my care a week," Snape chided. "Imagine breaking one of my fundamental rules so quickly!"

"I didn't mean to!" Harry protested. "Honest, I didn't! I just wanted to see what was in that room, well, and then the light wasn't good . . ."

"You broke into my potions lab, which I had specifically forbidden you to enter," Snape snarled at him. "There are many dangerous potions in there!"

"I thought I could just look and leave!" Harry admitted.

"You might have had you not knocked my decanting apparatus over," Snape acknowledged. "No more, however. There will be wards on that door so that if any unauthorized person enters it will alarm."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, looking down.

"The potion I have currently simmering is a pain relief potion," Snape told him seriously. "The fumes, if breathed in while brewing, render the person unable to feel anything for a month. Do you know what would happen if that happened to you?"

"I wouldn't need to worry about a smacking," Harry answered, just an edge of cheekiness in his reply.

"Or anything else!" Snape warned. "You could seriously injure yourself and not know it! People have died from infections after this happens because they don't even know they're sick!"

"I'm sorry," Harry answered, realizing that Snape was more worried about him than Harry breaking the glassware. He felt a bit of warmth in his stomach even as Snape scolded him, it was much different than with the Dursley's. He felt as if he mattered. He was scolding him for a safety violation, not because he was annoying or a "freak."

"I will not allow such flagrant disobedience," Snape told him firmly. "Come here."

Harry recognized the danger in that tone and that order, but he also knew it went worse if you didn't comply. His uncle had been unable to chase Harry, but he could starve him out, eventually forcing Harry to comply with the beating in order to be fed. And he would gleefully add strokes or use a harsher implement as well.

"Do you want me to get something to thrash me with?" Harry asked, his voice weaker. "I'm not wearing a belt." He was praying not a cane, a strap was better.

"I believe my hand is stern enough to correct this transgression," Snape told him, not reacting to the clear expectation the boy had of being beaten severely. "No quit stalling and bend over my lap."

Harry walked over to his new guardian, who had seated himself on the sofa. Not sure quite what was expected, but feeling assured that the smacking would not involve a belt or a stick, Harry put his tummy on the man's lap. Snape adjusted him so that his bottom pointed up more, and wrapped one arm around the miscreant's waist.

"You will obey the rules I set for you," Snape ordered him. "Especially the ones I set for your safety." With that, Snape administered a stern spanking to his ward. Severus found himself puzzled by the boy's reactions, though. A spanking would have made any first year student blubber and apologize, but the boy lay on his lap frozen stiff and and not reacting.

"Do you understand?" Snape asked, letting the last smack fall firmly on the boy's upper thighs.

"Yes – yes, sir," Harry replied, trying to keep his breath steady. His uncle had always made it worse if he cried, so he tried hard not to. It was easy to not cry from the pain – he just had to pretend not to be there. But the kindness was much harder to withstand. Being on the man's lap, having him not use a belt, feeling the smacks that were firm but not cruel – Harry was nearly crying in relief. He was so thankful that the Professor had rescued him from the Dursleys, and he felt genuinely guilty for disobeying him in such a stupid way.

"I'm sorry sir," Harry told him, not really believing that his punishment was over, but figuring an apology couldn't hurt.

"I'm sure you are now," Snape answered. Why wasn't this child getting up? Usually children couldn't wait to get away after their punishment.

"I won't do it again," Harry said hopefully.

"See that you don't," Snape told him. "You can get up now."

"Is that all?" Harry asked, then realized how silly that was to ask.

"Of course that's all," Snape snapped at him, but patted his back almost unconsciously. Harry had not made a move to get up. "Just because those horrible relatives of yours abused you doesn't mean that I will. That was a measured, appropriate punishment designed to bring you to a place of remorse for your actions."

"I am sorry," Harry told him, finding his voice choking against his will. "So sorry."

"No need to become a Hufflepuff over it," Snape told him. "It's over unless you decide to take another jaunt through my potions lab."

"I won't!" Harry promised, the tears becoming more than theoretical. "I promise."

"Then it's over," Snape repeated, providing a handkerchief he had tucked in is pocket for the tears he had assumed would come. He always made sure he had one handy when administering a punishment. At least Potter was acting more like a normal child now.

Harry began to get up, but found himself looking at the stern face of the Professor with longing. Snape saw the raw emotions on the lad's face and reached out the pat his arm, and Harry took this an an invitation for a full hug. Snape gasped a little as the boy hugged him tightly, crying into his clean robe.

"Now there is no call for that, Mr. Potter," Snape told him, though he patted the boy's back again nearly unconsciously. "You act as if I've just freed you from prison."

Harry could swear that he had answered so quietly Snape could not possibly have heard him, but the sharp ears of the potions master distinctly heard the boy answer, "You have."

. . .

Harry looked down at the backside of the boy version of his father and gulped a little. How was he going to actually do this?

"I'm going to give you fifteen smacks," Harry told the boy. "Ten for hitting Hermione, and then five for running away and taking the Floo without permission. Okay?"

"Okay," Severus answered, keeping his voice steady.

"If you need a break, let me know," Harry told him. "You're going to get all fifteen, but you don't have to get them all at once."

Snape made an inarticulate sound, so Harry steeled himself to do this. What would Professor Snape do in this situation? Harry had a pretty good idea. He put his arm around the boy's scrawny waist, holding him in place. His hand slapped down on the miscreant's backside smartly once, and then again. Harry was surprised at the sting in his own hand as he made his relentless progress towards fifteen.

Severus prepared for this to be a painful punishment, and was actually surprised by how much less these slaps hurt than what he'd expected. He didn't have to escape into his head at all, these smacks were certainly such that he could take without too much trouble. Did his guardian actually plan on bringing him to heel with this method? But then Severus began to feel the burn in his backside build, but also the reassurance he felt by having the man's arm around his waist and his lap under his stomach. It was almost like being hugged at the same time as being disciplined, and he found that beginning to undo him a little. In some ways he could take a hiding with a belt bent over a table easier than this man holding him and smacking his backside like he was an errant toddler.

"Fifteen," Harry said, bringing the smack down sharply on the lad's upper thighs. "Your punishment is complete, Severus."

Snape pushed himself up from the man's lap, surprised at the reluctance he felt. What was happening to him?

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Fine," Severus answered, unconsciously beginning to rub his bottom.

"Would you like a cuddle or laying down on the bed?" Harry asked him.

"A cuddle?" he asked incredulously. "Shouldn't you be shouting?"

"Most people need assurance after chastisement," Harry told him. "I'm not mad at you."

"You should be!" Severus told him passionately, almost yelling. "I'm a horrible ward! I didn't even tell you what I should have told you!"

"Why didn't you?" Harry asked, his voice calm.

"I don't want you to think I'm stupid," Severus admitted, and Harry could tell he was close to tears.

"We don't think that at all," Harry assured him. "Professor Snape was always quite intelligent."

"But I can't read!" Severus blurted out, and then clapped his hand over his mouth.

"What?" Harry asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I was always s'posed to tell people that I was homeschooled," Severus spouted, no longer holding back. "But I was never taught anything except maybe how to scrounge food and stay out of my father's line of sight."

"You knew how to read when you came to Hogwarts," Harry told him. "I know you did, we talked about your first year. How did you learn how to read?"

"There was someone that I was wanting to ask," Severus admitted. "A girl my age at the park that seemed nice. I realized she was a witch too, and we would go to Hogwarts together. I was working up my nerve to ask her to teach me."

"Was her name Lily?" Harry asked, his own emotions rising.

"How did you know?" Severus asked, his eyes suddenly suspicious.

"She was my mother," Harry told him, choking a little. "In your old life you were friends with her; best friends. Your affection for her caused you to check on me with my relatives, and when you found out that I was being mistreated you applied for guardianship. It was for her sake you raised me."

"Lily . . ." Severus repeated, his eyes wide and unbelieving. And then, he began to sniff a little more, his eyes filling with tears. Harry realized that this outpouring of emotions was perfectly normal and healthy for a nine-year-old, but was shocked that Severus was able to do it.

Harry put his hand on Severus' arm, hoping to convey affection and understanding to him. He tried to pull the lad onto his lap, but when he met with stiff resistance, he instead guided him to the bed beside him. Wordlessly casting a cushioning charm in case there was still some residual stinging, he sat the boy down beside him, carefully wrapping his arm around the small boy's shoulders. Severus fought the tears, trying to believe what Ron had said about tough men needing to cry sometimes too.


	11. Chapter 11 - Hysterics

AN: Sorry for the delay, I was on vacation and I always overestimate the amount of writing I can do while I am on vacation. :) Hope you enjoy. I feel like Ron might be a tad too insightful in this chapter, but I sort of needed him to be. What do you think, too out of character?

* * *

"Why didn't you just say so?" Hermione asked in exasperation as Severus tried to apologize to her. "That's an easy fix!"

"It is?" Severus asked, his eyes wary.

"Well, how do you think you learned the first time?" she asked.

"We suspect he may have asked Lily to help him," Harry interceded. "He remembers trying to work up his courage to discuss it with her."

"Well, if a fellow child could teach you to read with you meeting her in the park, don't you think we can do it here?" Hermione asked him incredulously. "Where you have actual adults and curriculum to help?"

"You'd . . . you'd teach me?" Severus asked, still wary.

"Of course I will!" Hermione laughed. "We all will. I'll bet you that you'll be reading before the month's out."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley . . ." he began, suddenly seeming more hopeful.

"And that's the other thing," Hermione levelled at him. "I can't stand being called Mrs. Weasley in my own home. I know that I have to be at work, but here I want it to be more like family. Do you think you could call me Hermione?"

Severus blanched, shaking his head in fear. Having the cheek to call an adult by their first name would have resulted in horrendous outcomes in his previous life, he just couldn't do it. He hoped this didn't mean that she wouldn't teach him now.

"Auntie it is then," Ron surmised. "Auntie Hermione and Uncle Ron. Has a nice ring to it, it does."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Severus nodded. "Auntie Hermione," he said, seeing how it felt to say it. Hermione was right, it did feel more like family.

"Much better," Hermione nodded, satisfied. "Have you and Harry figured out what you're calling each other?"

"Mr. Potter?" Severus asked hopefully.

"You can call me whatever you want," Harry told him. "Uncle Harry, Mr. Potter, Harry, even Dad if you wanted. I'll let you pick."

Severus wrinkled his brow in concentration, not wanting to look up at his guardian. "I don't know, sir," he answered quietly.

Harry tried to sound reassuring, saying, "It doesn't matter now, Severus. You'll figure it out in time."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Severus breathed, feeling more relaxed. He didn't have to figure it out now, and he certainly didn't have to either risk rejection or think about the implications. Hermione was easy – she felt like what he would think an aunt would feel like, and Ron was, well, definitely uncle-like. But Harry . . . was different.

"So let's get started then," Hermione told him, beckoning him to sit beside her at the table. "Do you know your letters?"

"I know the song," Snape confessed, sitting down beside her. "My mum sang it to me when I was small, and I heard kids singing it in the park too. But I haven't really, well, I don't really know the letters."

"We'll start there then," Hermione decided. "Most kids learn this over several years, however, so don't feel discouraged if it takes you longer than you want it to."

"Okay," Severus nodded, still suspicious but willing to try what she suggested if it meant curing the shame of not being able to read.

"This is the letter A," Hermione explained, drawing it on some paper. "It's the first letter in apple . . ."

Ron gave Harry a chin nod and motioned him out of the kitchen. Harry followed, knowing that this was more Hermione's realm than his.

"You alright?" Ron asked him once they were out of earshot.

"Okay," Harry answered, rubbing his hair a bit. "Not what I was expecting to do with my day."

"I can't imagine how hard that must have been, mate," Ron told him. "Need a firewhiskey?"

"Actually, yes," Harry laughed. "It's a date as soon as the little Potions Master goes to bed."

"Did it go . . . okay?" Ron pressed, smiling a bit too.

"As good as it should have, I guess," Harry admitted. "It stung my hand more than I realized it would, I'm not sure his backside was any worse off than my hand. Do you know if that's how it's supposed to be or if I'm doing it wrong?"

"No," Ron admitted. "But maybe that's why mum always used the spoon."

"He's a tough one, Ron," Harry admitted. "He's mean and snarky when I would have been worried and sorry. But he definitely has a lot of feelings, I think it will be a matter of him feeling them. You know, he even teared up and cried a little bit."

"He did?" Ron asked in surprise. "That has to be a good sign."

"I think it is," Harry agreed. "At least I hope. I remember after the Professor spanked me for the first time I just felt incredible relief – if that was the worst it was going to be, then I knew I didn't have anything to worry about."

"Then let's hope little Sev feels the same way," Ron nodded. "He seems a bit better, at least with Hermione. And you know about the mean and snarky stuff being just his cover, right?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"It's like with my brothers," Ron explained. "We all had the same need – we were trying to get our parents' attention. The twins used their pranks, Percy used succeeding at school, and I, well, I was the the little one."

"You grew out of that one," Harry guffawed.

"Your strategy as a kid was to be really sorry and to make yourself really small," Ron shot back, undeterred. "You came out of it as you grew up at Hogwarts and such, but it took a while. Severus has the same issues but his strategy is to be mean to everyone; the core issues are the same."

"I wasn't always making myself seem small!" Harry protested.

"Why did you let Umbridge do that to you?" Ron asked pointedly. "Or the host of other people that were less then consistent. Even Dumbledore you completely let off, even though he's the one that put you with the Dursleys in the first place."

"He apologized . . ." Harry began, and then stopped, realizing he was confirming Ron's point.

"Exactly," Ron answered. "What do you think ickle little Severus would do if some pink toad tried to get him to write lines with a bloody black quill?"

Harry smirked, seeing what Ron was trying to say. "He'd probably stab her with it," he laughed.

"Exactly," Ron nodded. "You have your work cut out for you."

The two friends looked at each other then, and Ron began snickering. "It's crazy, mate," he snickered.

"What?" Harry demanded, finding himself snickering too.

"You bloody spanked Severus Snape," Ron snickered. "The bane of Gryffindor, the man who took down bloody Lord Voldemort himself."

"And my father!" Harry added, snickering himself.

"The scariest professor in the history of Hogwarts," Ron laughed, trying to stifle it and nearly strangling. "Or at least since Salazar Slytherin. And you bent him over your lap and smacked his bottom!"

"I don't know how I'm going to face him if he gets restored," Harry laughed.

Suddenly, the absurdity of it all struck them and they began laughing with abandon. Harry felt highly irreverent laughing at his father like this, but in some ways it just felt so good to abandon propriety and just let out the laughter bubbling up.

"What is going on?" Harry heard Ginny ask, but at this point the laughter was almost uncontainable.

"He spanked Snape!" Ron declared, and then completely dissolved into laughter himself.

Ginny, rolling her eyes good naturedly at the boys' antics, laughed a bit herself. "I suppose picturing an adult Professor Snape in that position is rather funny . . ."

The boys responded with peals of laughter, and Ginny found herself laughing with them just because of their mirth.

"What is going on?" they heard Hermione demand. "I had to leave Severus with writing some letters."

"They're hysterical," Ginny explained, giggling herself. "I think something hit their funny bone."

"You two are supposed to be functional adults," Hermione scolded, but finding their laughter infectious.

"He, he . . ." Ron started, but was unable to finish due to his uncontrollable laughter.

"Ah, Severus," Hermione greeted the young boy as he entered the room to see what the laughter was about.

Harry, seeing his ward, tried to stop the laughing with large gasps.

"Are you mocking me?" Severus hissed in quiet anger.

"No, no they're not," Hermione rushed to assure him. "I'm not sure what's gotten into them."

"Look, mate, you have to understand," Ron tried to explain, gasping and trying to stifle his laughter. "You have to understand just how badass your adult self was."

"Ron!" Ginny corrected, shocked at his language.

"He was!" Ron insisted. "And then just the thought of the little pipsqueak he raised over here actually spanking him . . ."

"Hey!" Harry objected, and then laughed some more. "I'm sorry, Severus, I think we're more laughing at me."

"You?" Severus asked, still suspicious.

"Think of it like this," Harry tried to explain, getting control of his laughing. "If you were a young adult and suddenly were raising the child version of your father, and you had a situation arise that you had to spank him, how would you feel?"

"Gratified," Severus replied, his eyes glittering thinking of that particular revenge. "I would have made it painful indeed."

"Pretend you liked the bloke," Ron tried. "Feared him a bit yes, but also liked him. But always respected him for being a true b– ouch! Oh fine, Ginny – a truly strong and intimidating wizard."

"I see," Severus replied, feeling somewhat mollified at Ron's obvious fear and respect for his adult self. "Then why is my punishment funny?"

"It's funny because Harry can't believe he actually did it," Hermione tried to explain. "Ron's right, you were very intimidating. I believe Harry is also suffering a bit from hysteria. He's had a very strange few days."

"Far too strange," Harry agreed, and then met Severus' eyes. "I'm sorry if you felt mocked, Severus. Really, it was just Ron and I feeling silly and stupid."

"Do you have a picture of myself as an adult?" Severus asked, looking away but suddenly far more curious. "It would help me to know."

"Of course," Harry nodded. "Of course. I have one over here, this was taken when I graduated from Hogwarts."

Harry quickly located a smallish picture in a black leather frame, showing a slightly younger version of his guardian beside a tall, sallow-skinned man. The figures were moving as he had seen some of the photos him mom had had, and Severus could not help but be impressed by what he found. Severus looked at the man he had become, seeing the bones and skin of his mother and the height of his father. The man was exactly what Ron had described – he was a badass. Severus could see just from the way the man held himself that he was in command of everything around him – he had no fears. Even though the man had a – well, not happy, maybe more pleased – look on his face and his hand on Harry's shoulder, it was clear that he was a formidable person. His posture was straight and sure, and he looked between his obviously loved son to the camera with calm confidence.

"Is that really me?" Severus asked, believing but also finding it hard to believe.

"It was," Harry explained. "But something that McGonagall said I think is really true. That is who you were – a man hardened by an abusive childhood, a terrible time at school and then unthinkable things in the service of a madman. You were a good man and I loved you as a father very much. But McGonagall said this accident gives you a new chance at a different sort of a life. So yes, that's who you were. But it doesn't necessarily mean it's who you will become this time."

"He looks pretty great to me," Severus admitted.

"He was," Harry agreed. "But also so tragic. Maybe this time you could survive your childhood intact enough to have a girlfriend?"

"I didn't marry?" Severus asked, surprised.

"Never even dated," Harry told him. "You never really talked about it, but I think you were just a bit too hurt to trust a woman that much. You had a hard time having any friendships to be honest, I think it was a big deal that you even attached to me."

"But you were my son," Severus protested, confused. The man in the picture had obvious affection and pride in the young mean who was graduating.

"You chose that," Harry explained. "I could have stayed your ward and I would have been protected and you would have done your duty. You adopted me because you loved me; but that was hard, it was a process."

"When did I adopt you?"

"I became your ward at nine," Harry explained. "And you adopted me at eleven, just before Hogwarts."

Severus felt a small glimmer of something at that – somewhere beneath his inherent suspicion and distrust he felt something. Looking up into Harry's earnest face, his dark eyes locked with Harry's surprisingly green ones.

 _Green like Lily's_ , Snape realized with surprise.

"And I hope to do the same for you," Harry told his ward firmly, his gaze not wavering.

Snape wanted to run, to yell, to hit someone, or to cower. But he did none of those things as he took a true and appraising look at his guardian. He didn't usually look people full in the face; he could find enough information just watching their body language and take glimpses of their faces. But this look by his young guardian arrested him in his place.

"Let's visit George this afternoon," Hermione suggested, intentionally interrupting the moment when she saw Severus' legs begin to flinch like he was going to run. "In order to do that, I'd like a bit more time with Severus and his schoolwork. How does five sound to everyone?"

"Good," Harry agreed, watching Severus drop his gaze. Something had happened in that moment, and Harry couldn't help but think he was going to pay for whatever that was. "Sounds good. I'll attempt going to the office again then, I think. I'll be back soon."

Harry didn't miss the glare he got from Severus, but sighed. He had known this wasn't going to be easy.


	12. Chapter 12 - Uncle George

_AN: The end of August and the beginning of September was the reason I wasn't sure I wanted to start this story, but my busy season is over! Yeah! Sorry for the delay, and I am happy to get back to it. I like to reply to comments I get, and I'm very sorry that I haven't yet on the last chapter, I will get to you! Thanks for reading!_

* * *

George was not at all what Severus was expecting. When they had arrived at his shop business was booming – children and their parents crowded around different items whirring and spinning, creating smoke and raining down endless confetti. Severus gaped at the store, as it was unlike anything he'd ever seen. The stores leading up to George's store were interesting too – he got glimpses of robes, wands, a book store and even a candy shop with very strange items in the window – but nothing like this.

"Pretty cool, isn't it?" Harry asked him, coming up beside Severus. "It's amazing what he's done."

"He's had to hire on help," Ginny explained. "He tried to get Ron to work for him for ages, and he's only just started."

"Better than the ministry," Ron admitted. "We have a lot of fun. And we have a few others too from Hogwarts."

"The ministry's okay," Harry laughed. "But I can see why this is more fun."

"Look around, explore," Ron told Severus. "Just don't try to pinch anything. The anti-theft spells are, well, let's just say you can't say I didn't warn you."

"I am not a thief!" Severus exclaimed, offended.

"Of course not," Ginny tried to explain. "Ron just wants you to be careful."

With a glare at Ron, Severus did allow himself to begin looking around. The teetering shelves filled to the brim with brightly colored packages were mesmerizing, and Severus felt as if he could look all day and not see everything.

"Keep away from the ones on the high shelves," Ron warned, laughing. "Have fun looking."

Severus rolled his eyes, and soon became engrossed in the packages on the shelves. There were glass bottles of something called You-No-Poo, puffy balls of something that looked vaguely alive called Pygmy puffs, bags of disappearing licorice, and many other items. Severus marveled at the imagination behind the products – it seemed as if someone could imagine it, this store could sell it. He fingered the shiny package of the nosebleed nougat and the glass jar that held the Lemony Liar's Drops. _Guaranteed to turn a liar's tongue bright blue_ , the label promised.

Severus saw a package of dragon fireworks on a higher shelf, higher than he could reach normally. Glancing around to make sure that nobody was looking at him, he easily hoisted himself up and, using the shelves as a ladder, grabbed the bright package he wanted a closer look at. Suddenly, something latched onto his hand and the package, lifting him into the air and sounding an alarm that sounded much like a muggle police car.

"Severus Snape!" he heard a booming voice from behind him. "At last we meet! Or again we meet, really."

"Get me down!" he ordered in a predecessor of his stern professor voice, but his voice was also clearly panicking. He couldn't let go of the package of fireworks, and he was dangling several feet above the floor. From his odd vantage point, he saw a red-headed wizard that looked a lot like Ron Weasley wander closer to him. Taking in the confident stride and the brilliant purple robe, he assumed it must the the George everyone was talking about.

"Finite Incantatem," he heard Hermione speak, and suddenly found himself dropped and jostled onto the floor, his backside smacking the wooden planking of the store painfully. He looked around at the customers of the store, his cheeks burning with shame.

"Obscuris," Hermione incanted, erecting a bubble of privacy for the small group. "There, Severus, nobody can see or hear us."

"Really, George?" he heard Ginny ask, her voice critical. "Are those the new safety protocols mum was going on about you having for the kids? You could have warned us."

"That happens to every wizard to young for a wand that touches dangerous stuff," the man laughed back at her. "Keeps the culprit safe until he can be dealt with. Genius, if you ask me."

"What did he have then?" Ron asked. "Fireworks? Good choice, Sev, those are the fun ones."

"I didn't nick them!" Severus responded, horrified that this was what Ron had talked about with thieves.

"Nicking trips a much worse reaction," Ron assured him. "This just keeps the littlies out of the bad stuff, that's all."

"I am not little!" Severus roared back, his cheeks red with shame and feeling humiliated. He thrust himself to his feet, ready to defend himself.

"Of course not, of course not," George interfered, his warm face turning towards the young miscreant. "You are a young man old enough to figure out how to reach the high stuff. When you have a wand you shall be unstoppable."

"I shall be," Severus shot back at him, straightening his clothes and trying to regain his dignity.

"Thank you for testing my system out for me then," George nodded. "To keep actual littlies safe."

"You're patronizing me," Severus glared at the man.

"Me?" George laughed. "I hardly know what that word means; I am but a simple wizard that never even finished my full Hogwarts education. C'mon, Snapeykins, I have great plans for you and that great big brain of yours. Friends?"

"My brain?" Severus answered, suddenly suspicious of some of the ingredients on the products he had admired.

"I owe my success to your careful and thorough tutelage," George admitted. "You forced us to use safety protocols as we developed new products, and you scared the pants off of us with detailed descriptions of what you'd do to us if we ever actually harmed a student with a potion."

"You just harmed me!" he accused, rubbing his backside a bit.

"No real harm done," George chuckled. "That spell was to keep you from harm. And you were always pragmatic about it as well – you understood the need for testing as long as there were safety protocols in place. Well, those dragon fireworks – great fun, though perhaps a little dangerous in the wrong hands. Say, how does your guardian feel about you burning his house down?"

"Down?" Harry repeated.

"Exactly," George answered. "Probably best to wait until school for that. Hogwarts is very non-flammable, you see? We tested; there's plenty of built in fire suppressing spells. Work a treat, too."

"What use do you have for Severus, George?" Harry asked, trying to sound casual and deciding to be more of a guardian at this point. The talking about testing worried him.

"His brain," George repeated. "I have several potions problems that I cannot solve, and nor can anybody I can pay. So I thought I'd ask someone I cannot pay."

"He's nine," Ginny interrupted. "He's not the Potions Master he was, he's a little boy."

"A little boy?" George repeated. "Is that all? I think he's much more than that."

"What do you think I am?" Severus asked the strange man.

"I think you have forgotten who you are," George told him. "Would you like me to help you remember? To figure out how to change you back?"

"Can you?" Harry asked George, his voice hardly above a whisper. "McGonagall said the top people are on it . . ."

"The top person just got his hand smacked for touching a firework," George confirmed. "Snape is the best one to figure this one out, and I would love to help him do it."

"Why?" Hermione asked, suspiciously. "This isn't a prank."

"My life is not just about pranks, dear lady," he smirked at her. "There are many more adventures to be found."

"He's not ready for a formal apprenticeship," Harry interrupted. "If that's even what you're offering."

"I am simply offering to add to his schooling," George replied. "Ron can bring him to the shop a few days a week, and I will tutor him in elementary potions."

"Elementary pranking, more likely," Ginny surmised, crossing her arms. "I'm not sure we want you teaching him what you would want to be teaching him."

"Shall we ask the lad what he wants?" George countered. "Seems to me he's old enough to consult at least."

"Alright," Harry answered, then turned to Severus. "Mr. Weasley wants to offer . . ."

"Uncle George," George corrected.

"You aren't his uncle!" Ginny protested.

"Harry's his daddy, yes?" George asked.

"Well, I guess you could call me that . . ." Harry admitted, uncomfortable.

"And he's marrying my sister, right?" George pressed. "That makes me his uncle. If he's calling that tosser Ron uncle, then certainly by association too, yes?"

"Hey!" Ron protested with a laugh.

"You can call this person Uncle George or Mr. Weasley," Harry explained, deciding to take over from George. "And George would also like to have you help him a bit in the store, and maybe teach you a bit. How does that sound?"

"I don't know," Severus answered, feeling overwhelmed by having so many people interested in him. Why would Mr. Weasley want him for anything at all? It didn't make sense. He had the uncomfortable feeling that people thought he was something different than who he really was. "I don't think I can be of help to him."

"No fear!" George corrected. "You can be of help if you want to be."

Severus eyed the strange purple-robed man and then eyed his guardian. He didn't forget that Ron had said that the spell was to immobilize children until they could be dealt with, and he tried to see his guardian's level of anger and possible consequences. Would it be safer to ally himself with this other man? He seemed to not be the sort that had firm rules and consequences, but Severus decided he also seemed to be the sort that seemed unstable; like he might forget to feed his charge for days or forget to pay rent and get evicted. In his old life George would have been the sort of adult that Severus gave a wide berth to – predictability was always much easier to work with.

"Maybe," Severus answered, eyeing George critically.

"Maybe he could come with me to work for a bit sometimes and see how it goes?" Ron suggested, trying to appease both George and Severus. "George, you can't expect him to trust you right off the bat."

"I'm satisfied," George nodded dramatically. "Tomorrow then, little Snapey. You shall learn to trust me."

"We're calling him Severus," Ginny corrected mildly. "He prefers it."

"And he gets what he prefers, does he?" George asked, smirking. "We'll see about that."

"I don't," Severus answered in a grave voice. "I rarely am even asked."

"Then I shall ask you," George agreed. "Though I do not agree to always give it to you."

Severus eyed this strange man, and then nodded slightly. That, he could deal with. He never expected to get anything anyway – but for some reason this man's strange honesty felt refreshing to Severus. Then, eyeing his guardian and the others, decided to try to ensure he wouldn't be punished for trying to get the firework.

"Then you would prefer me not punished for trying to get the firework?" he asked, his voice neutral.

"Of course young boy!" George laughed.

"I wasn't going to, Severus," Harry laughed as well. "If anything, you got your smack when you hit the ground."

"But you do need to follow instructions for your own safety," Hermione scolded. "There are many dangerous things in our world for which you are unprepared."

"And you're nine," Ron reminded him. "You don't know everything yet."

 _I know enough_ , Severus thought silently, though he nodded at the scolding. Better a few stern words than something more direct – and more painful. Though a soft part of himself wanted to believe what Harry said about not beating him, in his heart he knew that at some point the man was going to blister him. He just couldn't picture anything else.

"Methinks you have a bit of a rebel on your hands, Harry," George nudged him. "With practice he could be as good as his Uncle George."

"Merlin save us," Harry laughed back at him.

"Oh, the greatest grand Mum Weasley would like a visit," George announced. "Nearly forgot, and she'd have had my toes for toast. Dinner tomorrow night if you're able."

"We'll see," Harry nodded. "Who's at home now?"

"I'd come," George thought. "I think everyone else is mostly gone, though they'd floo back in a dragon's heartbeat if they caught wind of little Snapey poo here. But if you want it small, they'd do ya good."

"I'll owl her," Harry promised. "We can't put it off forever."

"It's the first whiff of a grandchild," George rolled his eyes. "You're lucky she's not cooking you breakfast in bed."

"She always did have a soft spot for the professor after everything came out after the war," Ginny explained further. "She knitted him something every Christmas. Said he was a tragic and romantic figure."

"Sure, romantic if you didn't have to take potions from the git," Ron rolled his eyes, and then caught sight of Severus' face and reddened a little. "Sorry, Severus, it just seems so silly when people make your older self out to be all noble and everything."

"He was noble!" Hermione insisted. "Look at what he did for Harry! For the Order!"

"And he also favored Slytherins, mocked students, and had a right nasty temper!" Ron shot back. "Yes, he adopted Harry and saved the wizarding and world and all by being some sort of master spy, but you cannot make him perfect."

"Not in front of Severus . . ." Ginny protested.

"Of course in front of Severus!" Ron argued. "He knows enough about himself to know he's not going to grow up to be all cuddling bunnies and jelly slugs."

"Some discretion might be good, however," Harry told his friend, studying the boy's face. "Severus, Ron doesn't mean any insult, really. It's just that, you know, when someone's done something as amazing as some of the things you did, well, it's easy to think that they're just amazing in all areas? I mean, you were pretty amazing, but you weren't perfect. You weren't some sort of romantic hero, you know?"

"I think I do," Severus replied seriously, thinking over what Ron had said. "Would he have said those things if I had been here as an adult?"

"You may have said those things if you'd been here as an adult," Harry assured him. "You had little patience with people acting contrary to the facts of the situation as well. And you didn't mind that you were, well, as Ron said, a bit of a git. You would often be quite sarcastic about Molly Weasley sending you gifts, saying she was trying to soothe her own conscious for believing the worst of you."

"But you wore them," Ginny told him proudly. "I remember seeing you with a scarf I know she knitted for you. She even made it Slytherin green."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Molly Weasley is the warm, kind, loud, and can be a bit bossy – but she will also be like a grandmother to you if you let her. Would you like to meet her?"

"Does she cook well?" Severus asked, sniffing.

"More than you can eat!" Harry promised him, laughing. "I promise. George, we'll skip the owl and you can tell her that we'll be there tomorrow."

"Great!" George held up his arms dramatically. "The feast shall begin! And I cannot wait for mum to meet her noble, romantic figure as her first grandchild!"


	13. Chapter 13 - Butterscotch Biscuits

Severus crouched down, smelling the slightly papery smell of ancient dust as he fought to control his breathing. He had slipped out of the room in a moment of inattention, and now he crouched in the attic, hiding. He realized as his breathing normalized that he didn't really know why he slipped out of the room at that moment, he just felt nearly overwhelmed with people talking, laughing, and seeming to like each other. He supposed that they might think he went to the loo if they thought about him at all.

Looking around the room, he found an ancient, dust-covered bedframe with boxes piled on top. Smiling in relief, he wedged his small body under the bed, beginning to feel safe again. Nobody could reach him under the bed, it had been his favorite hiding place from before. A father could shout and rant and rave, but if he couldn't find you he couldn't hit you. And if you rolled up in a blanket under the bed, even if he looked you couldn't be seen.

Finding a dusty blanket to roll up in, he began to wonder about those people downstairs. Molly had seemed nice enough, a bit messy with her frizzy hair and mismatched apron, but something definitely kind and homey about her. Her husband Arthur had seemed kind as well, though Severus knew better than to trust appearances. Although, hearing his grown son joke about the time he had gotten sick after giving his sons the strap had made him seem a little less formidable as well.

But then – well, then it happened. Severus had really no idea why he had reacted that way, but Molly had offered wine to her guests. Severus had felt a strange dizziness come over him when he heard her open the bottle, and then when he smelled it he just had to get out of the room. Maybe he could stay up here for a long time, maybe until all the wine was gone. Surely they wouldn't care not to have a skinny, ugly kid underfoot.

Severus was snapped out of his daydream by the sound of the door opening and soft footsteps coming across the floor. The footsteps weren't looking for him – they were headed straight for him! He huddled down under his blanket tighter, closing his eyes and praying against discovery. Would someone flip the bed up? Drag him out from under it?

He could hear the person sit down in front of the bed where he was, and he heard the soft clink of what sounded like a plate placed on the floor. He waited, the only sounds in the room his breathing. Then, the intoxicating smell of warm biscuits began to waft under the bed where he hid, causing his stomach to growl against his control. Mortified that it was loud enough to overhear, he buried his face and waited for the wrath to descend.

"They're still warm," he heard the soft voice of Molly Weasley tell him. "You may have some if you wish."

Severus remained silent, but did bring the blanket away from his eye long enough to survey the offerings. She had a plate with several large biscuits on it, looking incredibly inviting. She had placed the plate close enough to the bed that he could reach out and take one without having to come out of hiding.

"I know you're hungry," she told him again, softly. "I used to never allow my children sweets before the meal, but as a grandmum I think now I'm allowed."

Severus quickly snaked a hand out and snapped up a biscuit, bringing the fragrant and warm offering under the dusty bed with him. He said in a quiet and not quite truculent voice, "You're not really my grandmum."

"I know," she laughed softly, still sitting on the ground. "But I intend to be. Let me see, the one you got was chocolate chippie, and there's also some nice butterscotch ones as well. You want to make sure you try all the options."

One of the butterscotch ones disappeared under the bed as well, as quickly as the first one did. Molly smiled as she saw the scrawny arm dart out, that was a small measure of trust. She sat there calmly, and waited until after a third biscuit disappeared under the bed.

"My son Percy used to like to hide there," she told him casually. "I wanted to get rid of that horrid bed years ago, but I somehow never could. Every time I thought of it I could just see his small head disappearing under it and couldn't bear to part with it."

"Why was he hiding?" Severus asked, his mouth full of sweet crumbles.

"We were a large household with a lot of children," she explained. "I think he needed his peace and quiet. And sometimes his brothers got on him a bit too, so I think he wanted somewhere away from them if they were really teasing him. That blanket is left from that time – he would often sleep. I think if you investigated further you may have found a comic book or two as well."

"Is that how you found me?" he asked.

"It's my house," she answered simply. "I know where people are. When the adults began to wonder where you had gotten to, I suggested that I check on you. Don't tell Harry about the biscuits and I won't either."

"Are they still doing that?"

"Doing what?" she answered, staring at the child blankly. What could they be doing that would bother the child?

"You know . . ." Severus said, then fell silent.

"You can have the last biscuit if you tell me," she told him jokingly, making no move to restrict his access to the plate.

Severus quickly snapped up the last one, and thought for a minute as he ate it. It had gone well when he had told Harry things so far, better than if he didn't. Would this be like that? He would have avoided a whole bunch of trouble if he had just told Harry that he couldn't read to begin with, nobody had said anything against him.

"Drinking," he answered so quietly she almost didn't hear him. "You poured them wine. I thought it was best to hide now before people started getting angry."

"That was very smart of you," Molly nodded. "And you found such a great hiding spot too. I can see you're good at keeping yourself safe."

"I am," Severus agreed, finishing the biscuit. Though the biscuits staved off the worst of the hunger, he found himself interested in the other smells wafting up from downstairs. But, he told himself firmly, he wouldn't starve. It was worth missing the food if it meant he didn't have to deal with drunk adults.

"We sometimes drink a little wine with our dinner," she explained. "It's something that people do sometimes, and they can drink a little and not get drunk."

"They can?" he asked doubtfully. "I've never seen it."

"I understand," she nodded. "It might be hard to believe, but not everyone gets drunk like that. But, seeing as it disturbs you, I will put the wine away. Does that sound good?"

"Will they be mad at me?" Severus asked, sounding young and vulnerable.

"Of course not," she answered briskly. "You've done nothing wrong. We can have just as nice of a meal without it, so don't worry."

"I think I'd rather stay here," he told her mournfully. He didn't really, he just didn't want to face angry adults that were now deprived of their wine.

"I made a roast beef and Yorkshire pudding," she told him. "When you were Professor Snape you would eat my cooking sometimes at the Order, when you didn't have enough time otherwise. Though you never complained about anything I cooked, I noticed this was one of the meals you would actually take seconds on. So I interpreted that as you liking it."

"I've never had it," he told her honestly.

"Then let's see if your childhood tastes are the same," she told him with a reassuring smile. "How about I go down now and tell them you'll be down in a minute, and I will think of a reason to get rid of the wine before you come down. Does that sound like it could work?"

"It does," he replied honestly. "But promise that nobody will be mad? Or punish me?"

"Nobody will," she promised. "But surely you're not really worried about Harry, are you?"

Severus thought about her question for a minute, and realized that he still was. "When he punished me it wasn't too bad," he admitted.

"Why did he punish you?" she asked in surprise.

"I hit Hermione," he answered miserably. "I didn't mean to, it just sort of happened. And then I panicked and went through the floo to Spinner's End. Harry found me there."

"Well, I can see you were just really scared," she told him. "Poor little mite. I'm sure it was hard on Harry too, he's really trying to be a good father to you. He's not going to be perfect by any means. Were you upset he punished you?"

"Not really," Severus answered honestly, wondering at his ability to talk to this frizzy-haired woman. "It wasn't that bad. In some ways it was almost a relief, like if that's all I have to fear it's not too bad. But I keep thinking that's not all – that eventually he'll get really mad and then punish me properly."

"I understand," Molly nodded. "I see that. You don't know him that well yet."

"Maybe if I was not me," Severus answered, shockingly finding himself close to tears. "I mean, if I was a child he could really love, then maybe I would be safe. But I'm not like that."

"Like what?"

"Loveable," Severus answered. "My own parents couldn't love me, what chance do I have with someone who isn't even supposed to do it?"

"That's not how love works," Molly sighed. "Especially not with kids. Kids always think that adult problems are because of them, though, don't they?"

"Adult problems?"

"Yes, like if parents get a divorce," Molly told him. "Kids almost always think it's their fault. I think it might be easier for them to think it's their fault than to admit that they didn't have power one way or another. You know what I mean? But there's nothing a kid could do to break up a happy marriage, just as there was nothing you could have done to make them love you any more."

"'Tis my fault," Severus answered, tears choking him. How did he suddenly have all these huge feelings? "If I hadn't been born they wouldn't have had to marry. She wouldn't have been with him."

"You may not believe me, but I want you to at least hear the truth from me," Molly insisted. "Those are decisions that your parents made, not you. And even if she felt forced to marry, she could have left. You didn't choose to be born. You were a precious gift, not the cause of their unhappiness."

Severus then was silent, hoping Molly had no way of seeing the tears tracking down his face. He didn't dare believe her, but he did hear her.

"I think you need Harry," she told him. "I'm going to go down and put away the wine, and I'm going to send Harry up to fetch you. Alright?"

"Okay," she heard a very quiet assent from under the bed. "Will he be mad?"

"He won't be mad," Molly assured him. "If I'm wrong I owe you four more biscuits."

Severus watched her leave, and felt a warm prickle somewhere in his chest towards her. Is that what a grandmum was supposed to be like?

"Severus?" he heard his guardian call out from the entrance of the attic. "Mrs. Weasley told me to come and bring you down."

"I'm here," Severus said from under the bed, furiously wiping tears from his eyes with the dusty blanket. "I just found a cozy spot here."

"Everything alright?" Harry asked him as the youngster crawled out from under the bed. "You've been crying."

"I'm alright," Severus answered, looking down. "Just you know, a new place and everything. Mrs. Weasley is nice."

"You'd better start calling her grandmum if you want any more sweets," Harry laughed at him. "And you don't have to tell me what upset you if you don't want, I trust that Molly was able to talk to you about it. She's an expert and getting kids to talk. I'll bet she got you to say what scared you."

"Did she do it to you?"

"Of course," Harry answered, his eyes twinkling. "I think it was those butterscotch biscuits. It's hard not to be honest in the face of such yummy food."

Severus giggled unexpectedly, trying to picture Mrs. Weasley plying his guardian with biscuits until he opened up.

"But don't underestimate the power of the chocolate chip either," Harry continued. "Especially warm."

"It was the wine," Severus answered, realizing he really did want his guardian to know. "I was just afraid of you getting angry once you got drunk."

"I don't get drunk!" Harry objected, and then looked at the child cower away a bit. Sighing, he realized this was a real fear.

"I don't get drunk," Harry continued, calmer this time. "Thanks for telling me what bothered you. If wine bothers you that much I won't drink any. Okay?"

"Okay," Severus answered, still expecting some sort of explosion.

"Then let's get downstairs before all the Yorkshire pudding gets eaten," Harry told her. "It's something Kreacher can't cook, so I'm eager to have some here."

"Alright," Severus agreed, following his guardian out of the dusty attic and down into the jostling, cluttered main area of the Burrow.

"Save us some!" Harry called out as people were sitting down to the table. "No hogging the Yorkshire pudding, George!"

"Foiled again!" George answered with a laugh. "Mum must really like you, Severus, she never cooks like this for just me."

"Severus has yet to put a snake in my cutlery drawer," Molly shot back at her son, scooping a spoon of peas on his plate. "Now eat your greens, m'boy."

"It wasn't a real snake!" George objected, rolling his eyes at the peas. "For Merlin's sake, mum, I'm not seven! I do know how to eat vegetables."

"Then be a good role model for Severus," she answered sweetly. "Peas, Severus?"

"Yes, please," Severus answered, feeling self conscious, added a nearly silent. "Thank you, grandmum."

"You're quite welcome, dearie," she answered with a satisfied smile. "And make sure your guardian shares that Yorkshire pudding with you."

* * *

 _AN: Special thanks to reviewers t42n24t2 and Chrissysmiles as they helped me think about what Molly would be like with Severus. :) Thanks guys! I have the best reviewers ever._


	14. Chapter 14 - Apparating

_AN: Sorry for the delay, it was just a matter of my own stressful life._ _It's good to be back._

* * *

That night, Harry went in to tuck in his thoughtful ward. He seemed to be preoccupied since their return from the Burrow, but did not seem anxious or worried.

"I told you she could cook," Harry told Severus as he straightened out the blankets.

"You did," Severus agreed. "I liked it very much. But especially the biscuits."

"Of course the biscuits," Harry laughed. "Though the sticky toffee pudding was nice as well."

"It was nice," Severus agreed. "Did she mean it, Mr. Potter?"

"Mean what?"

"She wants Ron to bring me over on days that I go into the shop with him to see Uncle George, and she wants to teach me how to cook."

"I don't think she offers many things that she doesn't mean," Harry told her honestly. "If she offered, then I think we can make that happen."

"Why does she want to teach me how to cook?" he asked softly.

"It's something she loves," Harry tried to be honest. "And your adult self was very good at potions, cooking should be very similar to that."

Severus sighed, looking away dejectedly.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"You all like _him_ ," Severus told him quietly. "You like some person who was some sort of amazing superspy. That's not me, I'm just some dumb kid who can't even read."

"Hermione said that you were doing better with that."

"I suppose," Severus shrugged. "But you guys are just nice to me because of him."

"And he isn't who you are anymore," Harry answered, understanding. "Are you worried you're not going to measure up?"

Severus nodded, looking away.

"I felt that way too a bit when I was a child," Harry told him. "Everyone expected me to be this big savior of the wizarding world or something, and it was all for something that happened when I was a baby. I couldn't even remember it. I felt like a fraud, and I felt like they were all expecting far too much. There were wizards with more power and smarter, so I wasn't sure why I was the one."

"And what happened?" Severus asked.

"Well, I did sort of save the world," Harry answered awkwardly. "But it was mostly by accident and I had tons of help. Without Ron and Hermione, well, let's just say it would have been a whole different story. And not just them either, loads of other people. But in the end, yes, it was me against Voldemort. And I won."

"I can't do anything like that," Severus told him.

"Of course you can't," Harry told him. "When I was your age and went to live with Professor Snape I didn't even know I was a wizard. What I'm trying to say, quite badly I guess, is that you don't have to do anything but be you. Yeah, I was fond of my dad and he was a crazy superspy. But I think I'm also going to grow quite fond of you, and excited to see what you can do with your life with a proper upbringing."

"Am I going to be like he was?" Severus asked, trying to ignore the beat his heart skipped when Harry said he could become fond of him.

"No," Harry answered. "Your life will be much different. The Headmistress had warned me about telling me too much about Professor Snape, and I'm wondering if she was right."

"In some ways it is good to know that as an adult I was respected," Severus told him. "I didn't, well, I didn't ever think that as a child."

"Good, we're playing this by ear," Harry told him. "Now I want you to go to sleep because I would like tomorrow to be much calmer than today."

"No guarantees," Severus grumbled as he snuggled under the blanket. He still couldn't believe how good it felt to have a clean, soft bed to lay in to go to sleep. "I'm pretty evil, you know."

"Oh?" Harry asked.

"I am," Severus replied, and then the snarky fun attitude changed. "I actually am. You may not want to be my guardian."

"Why is that?" Harry asked, smiling gently. "Did you off the last ones?"

"I wanted to," Severus replied. "I just realized, well, I just realized that I don't miss them at all. Not my mum nor my Father. My Father, well you know about him, so that's not too surprising. But my mum – she was the safest person I knew. But she, well, she –,"

"She failed you plenty," Harry told him. "It's okay you don't miss her now too much. As you get older you might miss her a bit, or maybe miss who she should have been. But it's okay if you don't miss her now."

"You already know more about me than she did," Severus admitted quietly.

"I know she was in a hard place and that she was unhappy," Harry told him. "But that is still no excuse. She should have taken better care of you."

"Tell me a story," Severus asked him.

"No more where I get in trouble and get smacked," Harry laughed, a bit relieved himself in the change of subject. "You're going to think that was my entire childhood."

"Tell of me of before," Severus urged. "Tell me of where you grew up before Professor Snape came and took you."

"The Dursleys," Harry nodded. "Are you sure? There are very few happy or funny things that took place there."

"I'm too old to need a fairy tale," Severus countered. "I just want to know I'm not the only one."

"Alright, one story," Harry nodded. "I will tell you about one of the first times I realized that there was something odd about me."

"But don't make it too happy of a story, alright?" Severus asked.

"Don't worry, it won't be," Harry assured him. "Especially when you think that most of the time accidental magic happens with stress. Now let me see, I was just a young child in my first year of school . . ."

. . .

School, which young Harry had hoped would be a good respite from the care of his relatives, found that it granted Dudley Dursley even more opportunities to torment him. Before even the first few weeks of his first year at school had passed, he had organized some of his friends to engage in what he termed "Harry hunting." Essentially, it consisted of Dudley tormenting and beating Harry if Harry did not figure out how to evade it. Harry had been a less than enthusiastic participant in this game, but of course had to participate nonetheless.

Several months into school, it had come to a head. Harry was already sore from the beating Dudley had given him the night before as well as a well-aimed kick Uncle Vernon had doled out as he had pushed the young man into his cupboard the night before. Harry was feeling desperate, scared, and dreading the pounding that was sure to come. He crouched behind a greasy, filthy rubbish collection bin hoping that the smell would put the bullies off.

"We know you're here, mate," Piers glowered at him.

"Is he crying yet?" Dudley asked, his voice sounding almost joyful. "I love it when he cries."

"If he's not now he'll do it soon enough," Piers answered nastily.

"Come out now, ickle little Pottykins," Dudley taunted. "If you come out now it won't be too bad. We'll just hit you a little."

"Just a small hiding for the one hiding," Piers giggled. "Out you come, now, mate. Don't make us fetch you."

Harry closed his eyes and wished with everything he had that they would see him – a small, ratty lump in too-big clothes hiding his face. They were coming closer, though, and Harry started to panic.

"Well, you're definitely upgrading to a decent beating," Dudley told him. "Come out now before we really let you have it . . ."

And suddenly, in a whoosh, Harry was no longer crouching in the smelly, close space behind the rubbish but instead was somewhere much cooler, windier, and fresher. Harry opened his eyes in shock to realize that he was up on the roof of the school, safely out of the reach of the bullies, and that he could see them circling the rubbish can below him. With an incredulous smirk, he saw Piers come around one side while Dudley came in the other, and how they pounced as if to catch him. He was far enough away to hear them yell at each other in disappointment, and make their way away from the cafeteria.

 _How did that happen?_ Harry wondered to himself, his body loosening as he realized that he had escaped.

. . .

"How did you get down?" Severus asked, breathless.

"I was an agile kid," Harry answered, shrugging. "I stayed up there until lunch break was nearly over and then I nipped down the gutters. Nobody the wiser. It never happened again, though I did wish it again on occasion."

"Did you kill Dudley when you became a wizard?" Severus asked, his own eyes flashing with revenge.

"No," Harry laughed. "When we were older Dudley had a run in with some death eaters that were trying to use him to get to me, thinking I still lived there. Luckily Professor Snape was able to save Dudley from the attack and then put some protections on the family, despite his "best judgment" as he put it. From then on he was a lot better; we made our peace."

"I would not have been so forgiving."

"I think at some point I realized he was in nearly as bad of a place as me with his parents," Harry told him. "I mean, they doted on him – but it was still really hard on him. He was expected to abuse me, they encouraged him to be a monster to me."

"Why did Professor Snape come and get you?" Severus asked.

"I'll tell you if you promise to go straight to bed after," Harry laughed. "I guess the last story was too short."

. . .

Severus Snape was not a bloody house elf, he thought to himself as he made his way to the perfectly manicured yard of Dudley and Petunia Dursley. Why had Dumbledore insisted on him visiting? Surely McGonagall would have been a better choice, she'd been the boy's parents bloody head of house. He did not need to see the spawn of James Potter living in the lap of luxury.

Grumpy and feeling put-upon, Severus Snape rapped on the door.

"You!" Petunia Dursley gasped as she looked upon the formidable wizard.

"It is indeed I," Snape responded with thick sarcasm. "Greetings. You will allow me to enter now."

"Go away!" she snapped at him. "Vernon is due home soon!"

"This visit will be as brief as possible," Snape informed her. "Now let me in before I make a scene for your neighbors."

Petunia complied reluctantly, seeming worried. Snape ignored her and looked around the suffocatingly neat house to eye the plump boy sitting on the couch and watching the telly, a large bowl of crisps balanced on his lap.

"Where is the Potter boy?" Snape asked sharply.

"He's not here . . ." she started.

"Don't lie to me," Severus snapped. "I can find him easily if I have to."

"In the cupboard," she motioned, her eyes wide and frightened. "He's being p . . . punished. He gets quite out of control, really, and the cupboard seems to calm him . . ."

"Show me," Severus replied severely.

Petunia quickly pulled back the bolt and opened the cupboard door to reveal a small, skinny and spectacled boy sitting on a small, stained cot. The air of the small cupboard did not have the air of a space where a child had a time-out, but rather the air of having been lived in. Snape's sharp eyes took in the details quickly – a crayoned picture, a few broken toys, and ratty, stained clothes that were obviously the other boy's oversized castoffs.

"Come here, Potter," Snape ordered him brusquely.

Too scared not to obey, Harry instantly obeyed, coming out of the cupboard and stood before the glowering Potions Master.

"I will ask you some questions and you will answer honestly," Snape ordered him firmly. "Even one thought of deception and I will know. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you, Mrs. Dursley, will be silent or I will compel you," he threated. She nodded in response, not wanting to risk it.

"My name is Professor Snape," he told him, realizing the boy might have little idea and realizing he could get better answers if the boy wasn't quite so scared. And though the seemed to shake with fear, he had yet to look him in the eye. "The nurse at your school has called in a complaint to the authorities that she believes you might not be well looked after and that you seem to have a lot of injuries. I have been sent to check on you, and lying to me would be a very serious mistake. Now tell me, where do you sleep at night?"

"In my cupboard," Harry answered in a voice little above a whisper. "Sir."

"Is it true that you are not fed adequately?" he persisted.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answered.

"Is your food limited or can you eat the quantity you desire?"

"Limited," Harry answered quietly, slipping his eyes sideways at his Aunt. He wanted to lie, but this stranger scared him with the threat that he would know a lie. Harry knew instinctively that he told the truth. "Especially when I'm bad."

"I see," Snape nodded. "And how are you punished?"

"Sir?" Harry asked, unsure.

"How do they punish you?" Snape persisted. "Do they hit you with something? Take away food? Restrict you to your cupboard?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, squirming. Uncle Vernon would give him the strap for sure for telling, but there was some desperate hope in his chest that this man could actually do something about his miserable life. He certainly had Aunt Petunia intimidated.

"Which one?" Snape snapped, losing patience.

"All of them, sir," Harry answered, near tears. "Mostly the strap, but the cane too if I'm really bad from Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia has gotten me a few times with the frying pan as well."

"Take of your shirt," he demanded, glaring at Aunt Petunia. She responded with a frightened squeak as Harry took off his shirt with no further protest. The beating from the night before stood in livid contrast on the pallid, skinny frame. The strap had obviously been uncontrolled and had wrapped around the bony ribcage to snap painfully as well as patterning his back. Snape could count every rib.

"Grab anything you want to keep," Snape told him firmly. "And you can replace your shirt. I am taking you with me."

Harry looked up in a mixture of hope and alarm, and Snape felt his heart wrench when he saw the vulnerable emerald of Lily's own eyes meet his. How could this be?

"We were just trying to raise him properly!" Petunia protested. "He's a horrible . . ."

"Enough!" Snape growled, casting a silencing charm and regaining iron-clad control of his emotions. "You can discuss it with the police. This boy will never be under your power again. You will rue the day you did this, Petunia Dursley."

With that and a flurry of his cloak, Snape grasped the shoulder of the boy. "We are going to apparate," Snape informed him. "We are going to disappear here and go somewhere else, somewhere safe. Have you done this before?"

"I have, sir," Harry answered simply, nodding. "By accident."

And with that, they apparated away.


	15. Chapter 15 - Snapeykins

"Did you really tell him everything about the Dursleys?" Ron asked, incredulous. "I mean, he's just a little jugger all told. Shouldn't he have some, I don't know, happy bedtime stories?"

"Well, I didn't want to lie," Harry told him, sipping his tea and wondering if he'd done the right thing. "I mean, I didn't tell him the gory details, more just my relief at Professor Snape finding me, my terror when he told me he would know if I lied to him, and his quick decision to take me away upon me taking off my shirt."

"He's not a child, not really," Ginny agreed. "I mean he is, but he's seen a lot of bad stuff too. It might be too late to shield him."

"Actually, Harry is doing something called normalizing," Hermione informed him. "I've been doing some reading about childhood trauma, and Severus hearing that someone else had some of the same experiences will make him feel like he's more normal."

"Maybe we should pick another example than Harry," Ron teased. "Someone who actually _is_ normal."

"Shut up," Harry laughed back. "Not all of us can be as pretty as you are."

"Good morning, Severus," Hermione greeted the young man. "How did you sleep?"

"Alright, I guess," he answered, reaching for a teacup. "Are you mocking me again?"

"No, your dad," Ron answered easily. "We should be pitying you."

"Dad?" Severus answered blankly, a little panic in his voice.

"Dad-like person," Ginny explained, seeing his face. "I don't think a morning goes by that Ron doesn't take the mickey out of Harry."

"Oh," Severus replied, spooning sugar into his cup.

"That's enough sugar," Harry told him with a laugh. "You should want to at least taste the tea."

"I like sugar," Severus replied, spooning in another spoon before reaching for the milk.

"You're lucky wizards don't need dentists," Hermione sighed. "We're having eggs and toast this morning, go ahead and dish up."

"Eat a good breakfast, I'm taking you to George's store this afternoon," Ron told him. "You're having the morning to study with Hermione and then I'll floo home for lunch and get you. Then you'll pop over to mum's for a bit too, then the 'Dad-like person' will bring you home. Sound good?"

"He'll be studying with the 'Dad-like person,'" Hermione replied easily. "I'm going to set him to his lessons and then go into work. Harry's off this week, I don't think I'm really needed now that we've gotten to the bottom of the problems."

"If you're sure I can handle it," Harry replied sardonically.

"I've laid it all out very simply," she responded, ignoring the tone. "Even you can handle it."

"Thank you for pandering to my academic inadequacies," Harry laughed. "But I should be able to work out some early reading lessons."

"It's harder than you think," she told him imperiously. "But Severus is quite bright and is catching on rather quickly. I had thought he would be reading simple words by the end of the month; my new estimate is the end of the fortnight. By the end of the month he may very well be nearly literate."

Severus blushed at her indirect praise, and though it felt good it also felt strangely uncomfortable. Didn't she know that he was really kind of a screw-up? If he was that bright wouldn't he have taught himself to read before now? His eyes narrowed suspiciously at her. Severus Snape was no fool; anybody that was nice to him wanted something.

"Sounds like a plan, then," Harry nodded to her. "I'm excited to see what you're learning, Severus."

. . .

Severus reflected on that statement a half hour later as he was standing in the corner of the study, looking at the ancient, carved strip of wood running up the corner. He flexed and relaxed his hands, trying to get control of his anger. He was still in control enough not to want to attack his guardian, but he felt like his control was tenuous.

"Are you ready to continue now, Severus?" he heard his guardian ask calmly.

"I was ready before!" he snapped at the man, turning his head.

"I see," Harry answered. "Five more minutes then."

"Do you really think this inane punishment will bring me to heel?" Severus sneered at him, but facing the corner once again. "Do you think that after what my father did to me that a little corner time will make me contrite?"

"I was hoping to give you time to employ your occlumency and calm your emotions," Harry explained with an edge to his voice. "I was hoping to curb your temper before I had to punish you for it."

"What's occlumency?" Snape asked pugnaciously.

"We will talk about it when you're calmer," Harry told him firmly. "Five more minutes."

Severus grit his teeth in frustration, his fists clenched tightly. A picture of him punching Mr. Potter came into his head, and he found the rage coiling tightly in his stomach. Then, his mind went to the time at Spinner's End when his guardian spanked him for him punching Hermione, and he knew he had to get control of his rage. Taking a deep breath, he tried to will his body to calm down.

Without turning around, Severus heard the door to the study open.

"I'm off to practice, Harry," he heard Ginny tell him. He could almost feel Ginny glance at him in curiosity. "Everything alright here?"

"Just fine," Harry answered casually. "I'm just giving Severus some time to cool down."

"Okay," she nodded, though she still sounded skeptical. "I can pick up Severus at Mum's today and bring him back for supper if you want."

"That sounds good," Harry answered. "Have a good time at practice."

"I can stay home and do a makeup later if you need me . . ."

"I can deal with one kid throwing a temper tantrum," Harry laughed at her. "We'll be fine. Catch a snitch for me."

Ginny laughed at him then, and seemed more relaxed. "You know I want to transition to chaser. But yeah, until they can get a new seeker that's probably where I'll be. But it's fun anyway."

"I'm jealous, as always," he replied.

"You could always practice and get back in it," she told him fondly. "You were a very good seeker in your time, a little work and you might be able to make the team."

"I think one professional player in our family is enough," he laughed. "The idea of it sounds really good, but in the end I love my work as an auror."

"I had wondered if you might leave after Ron did."

"No, I still love it," Harry answered, amused. "Although I think you and Ron definitely have the good end of the stick job-wise."

"I'll be off then," she answered. "Send a patronus if you need me. Goodbye, Severus."

"Goodbye," Severus answered grumpily.

"If you're good, I'll tell you the story of the first time Professor Snape put me in the corner for your bedtime story," Harry told him after a few minutes of silence. "Are you calmer now?"

"I am," Severus replied, and then felt surprised to realize that he actually was.

"Good, let's get back to work then."

"I don't need your help on this," Severus grumbled, sitting back down and picking up his quill.

"Okay," Harry answered. "You do the work set for you and I'll check back in an hour, okay?"

"Alright," Severus grumbled.

"You can tell me what you want and need without resorting to being so disrespectful," Harry told him firmly.

"Yes, sir," Severus grumbled with a slight tone of disrespect, but not enough for Harry to correct.

"Good, I'll check back in," Harry told him. "Let me know if you need help before that."

Severus watched him go, still feeling grumpy. He had to admit that Harry had just wanted to help him, but for some reason that also just felt so irritating. He wished he could just learn and not need any help at all, and having Harry cheerfully offering to help him do what a baby should be able to do was humiliating.

Severus had a completely different experience later at the joke shop with George Weasley. George gestured him to sit down in front of an open book excitedly. "Come, young Snapeykins," George gestured. "I have something you must read."

"He's not had the most, well, thorough of educations, mate," Ron tried to explain without embarrassing Severus.

"No matter," George nodded, understanding. "I'll put a read me spell on it. All he has to do is point to any word he doesn't know and it reads it out loud."

"That's a pretty advanced potion book," Ron observed. "Is it even taught at Hogwarts?"

"It's the book he was working on when, well, when the accident happened," George told him seriously.

"How could you possibly know that?" Ron asked him. "Even Harry doesn't know that."

"Harry didn't collaborate with the man, did he?" George asked. "You and Harry all off and revolutionizing the auror department, your golden trio had no time for silliness like potions and study."

"And you did?" Ron asked, incredulously.

"Half our jokes are based on potions," George replied, laughing. "Who do you think I collaborated with? Slughorn? No, Potions Master Snapey was, shall we say, a silent contributor. He didn't want to be seen helping me, of course, but he did have a cut of the profits."

"And you expect a nine year old to figure this stuff out?" Ron asked, critically. "I wouldn't understand half of it."

"I understand it, no worries little Ronnysnaps," George told him. "I just can't understand what inspired him to make the potion that transformed him. I'm not squeezing little Snapeykins for his knowledge, but for his inspiration."

"Do you think you can figure out how to change him back?"

"Maybe," George nodded. "But I have to have the Professor's brain to do it."

"Even though he's nine?" Ron asked, incredulously. "He doesn't even have a wand yet."

"It's our best hope to give Harry back his Daddy," George shrugged. "If it doesn't work, I really don't know what will."

"What do I do?" Severus asked.

"Look at it," George told him. "For the first few days, just look at the words and the illustrations. Let me know what pops into your head. Ask questions that occur to you. Use that enormous brain of yours."

"It's worth a try," Ron shrugged as Severus looked at him. "Maybe you'll learn something."

"You've got your own work to do, ickle Ronnie," George told him. "Let the enormous brain do his work."

"Right," Ron told him. "Have a look, Severus, see what you think. We'll head out to the burrow in a few hours."

"I'll let you work, little Snapey," George told him. "You always did your best work alone. Go to it."

Severus watched them go out to the store, and looked around the small office they'd tucked them into. It was a mad array of books, papers, scrolls, and other tidbits. He wondered how anybody did anything in the mad mess. Sighing, he took a closer look at the book. Tapping a word, he heard it say, "cauldron." Looking over the page carefully, he touched a word saying "time-travel." He thought about disobeying, but then the allure of having the words in the book unlocked for him with just a touch was irresistible. He bent his head to the task, and soon became engrossed.

A few hours passed before Severus was interrupted. "Hey there little Snapey," George greeted him. "It's time to go and make good with the grandmum."

"I'm going to take you," he heard a woman's voice behind George. An athletic-looking, darker skinned woman stepped out from behind him. "My name is Angelina."

"Why is she taking me?" Severus asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"I was headed over there anyway," she answered lightly. "I'm sort of one of the family too."

"She's, well, she's my girlfriend, Severus," George answered, looking uncharacteristically flustered.

Severus was shocked by George's use of his proper name more than anything else, so he closed the booked and eyed the two closely. "No pranks?"

"None at all," George promised. "I think Ginny is picking you up at mum's house."

"Alright," Severus agreed. "As long as there's no funny business."

"None whatsoever!" George promised, putting up one hand as if swearing. "I solemnly swear I am up to nothing bad."

"Alright, then," Severus stood up. "And thank you, George . . ."

"Uncle George."

Severus rolled his eyes, giving an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Thank you Uncle George for the book and the spell. It was quite . . . good."

"Did anything occur to you?" George asked eagerly. "Any inspiration pop in your head?"

"No," Severus admitted. "I feel like I was just trying to understand it. But it also felt . . . I don't know, good in some way. It was fascinating."

"Come back tomorrow, then," he grinned at the lad. "You're always welcome."

"I don't see how I can be of much help, though," he pressed. "I barely understand anything."

"Then learn to understand it," George told him. "You've learned this once before; you can learn it again. I don't expect you to do it tomorrow, you know. I would bet it takes at least a year or two."

Severus paused there, taken aback. He hadn't even thought about a year or two – what would that be like? Would he become so accustomed to being a child that he wouldn't want to be changed back? And then, in the nagging part of his brain, he also had to wonder about how Harry would feel. Did he know he was signing up to raise a child for _years_? Somehow Severus doubted it.

"We should go," Angelina smiled at him. "Would you like me to call you Severus?"

"That would be appropriate," he told her with a sniff. "I hope you don't expect me to call you Auntie."

"Angelina is fine," she smiled, her dark eyes flashing humor. "I'm not married into this family, just a girlfriend."

"It doesn't stop some people," he sniffed again, glaring at George. "I don't know about this insistence of calling people family terms that they don't actually have."

"It's odd not to call you professor, to be honest," she laughed. "I swear; I didn't know a nine-year-old could look so much like his adult self."

"Do you think so?" he asked, unconsciously stretching himself a bit taller. He liked the idea of looking like the man in the photo.

"Definitely," she replied, smiling at his reaction. "Let's go find the floo."


	16. Chapter 16 - Not a Hufflepuff

_AN: a nice long one to make up for having to wait for it. :) I know everyone is busy this time of year, but it sure feels good to get a few hours to write. Enjoy!_

* * *

"Put your nose in that corner right now," Professor Snape told the young boy firmly, pointing to an empty corner.

Harry, confused and frightened, tried to obey. What was happening? What would the Professor do to him in the corner?

"You will stay there until you can use proper table manners," Professor Snape told him firmly.

"Yes, sir," Harry said quietly. "But I'm not really sure how to – I've never stood in the corner before."

"It is not difficult," he replied sharply, suspicious of being mocked. "Simply approach the corner until you are close enough to not see anything but the two walls. Stay there until you decide to use proper table manners."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, the Professor's stern reply making him squirm. He obeyed, walking closer to the corner.

"Closer," The professor directed. "Alright, there. I will return to eating my own dinner now, and you may join when you decide you've had enough of this misbehavior."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied calmly, though inside his stomach was churning. He had barely gotten a bite of the shepherd's pie, but the bite he had had was lovely. He could still taste it a bit on his tongue if he tried. But he also didn't know what the Professor was expecting from him; he'd never really eaten at a table before. The Dursleys would never have permitted the "freak" eating with them and taking food from the dear Dudder's plate. Harry always got the leftovers, eaten in a rush as he scraped the plates and washed the dishes.

Harry's stomach growled and he felt his eyes well up in tears. He had so hoped that he would be allowed to eat at his new home, but now he knew that he wasn't going to ever get fed no matter where he went. And he didn't even have the comfort of a school lunch on that day either – Professor Snape had said he would not be going back to school. He also realized that standing in the corner of the dining room added another exquisite torture that his cupboard lacked – he could smell the food that he was being denied clearly. Even the sounds of the Professor's knife and fork being used added to his misery. What did the professor mean by "proper table manners?" He didn't remember seeing Dudley use any of them.

Harry stood in that corner struggling not to cry for what felt like hours, but what he didn't know was that the Professor was studying him closely. Was the boy really this stubborn and lazy? Or was this something to do with some other atrocity committed by those horrible relatives of his?

After he finished his meal, the Professor said into the silent dining room, "Since you are too stubborn to use proper table manners whilst dining with me, you may eat after I am through so as not to spoil my appetite."

Harry turned his head sharply, and Snape saw the unfallen tears and blotchy face. Sighing, he realized that he had misunderstood the situation – Harry wasn't being stubborn and truculent, it was something else.

"I may eat, sir?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course," Snape snapped at him. "What sort of monster do you think I am? You will not be denied basic meals under my roof, though extra treats like dessert are for children with proper table manners, am I clear?"

"Thank you, sir," Harry breathed in relief, but then looked doubtfully at his dinner which had waited for him under a warming charm. "But sir . . ."

"What?" Snape snapped impatiently.

"I don't really know how to eat properly, sir," Harry told him, near tears again. "Please, I can learn. Please, could you show me, sir?"

Professor Snape's heart twisted in recognition; he wouldn't have fared any better than Harry at that age. In addition to the other clear abuses, this boy hadn't been fed properly. True he was skinny and small for his age, but this was the clearest evidence of the extent of the boy's neglect.

"Very well," the Professor answered. "Have a seat and I will try and instruct you. We shall endeavor to keep you out of the corner in the future. Now then, these are your cutlery. You should not hold them as if I were trying to wrest them away from you . . ."

. . .

"It was unfair!" Severus exclaimed as Harry ended the story. "You didn't know what you were doing!"

"I guess it looks unfair now," Harry nodded. "But really I was just really grateful to be allowed to eat, as well as the assurance that I wasn't going to miss meals."

"But weren't you mad he put you in the corner?" Severus asked, incredulous.

"I think I was used to things being unjust," Harry shrugged. "You have to realize, that was my first night there. I was so grateful to be away from the Dursleys that the Professor would have had to be really horrible for me to have gotten mad. I'm not even sure I was capable of getting mad at him at that point."

"But at some point you were," Severus stated, watching his guardian closely. "I got mad at you the first time I saw you."

"I think we were very different kids," Harry laughed. "I don't think I got mad at Professor Snape until I felt pretty safe."

"Tell me," Severus demanded.

"Tell you?" Harry echoed, smiling at Severus' demandingness.

"Tell me," Severus repeated. "That was too short of a story. Tell me about the time you got mad at him."

"Why do I have the feeling you are just trying to justify your own behavior?" Harry smiled at him.

"You already said it was a long way into the guardianship," Snape snapped. "We already know you were oh-so-much better than me. Now tell me!"

"I believe I liked to be asked nicely," Harry said, his voice pitched just a bit sternly.

"Oh alright," Severus rolled his eyes. "Can you please tell me the story of the first time you got mad at your guardian?"

"Much better," Harry affirmed. "But you have to remember that I wasn't a perfect child, or really any better than you. Just different."

"And what did you get mad about?" Severus asked. "Did your guardian not give you enough broccoli with dinner?"

"It was a bit more embarrassing than that," Harry laughed, refolding his hands nervously. "I'm not sure telling you this story will uphold my authority."

"You've already told me about the strap," Severus argued. "And you said that was your worst punishment you got. How could this be worse?"

"Not worse, per say," Harry corrected. "More embarrassing. I see I'm going to have to tell you this story or you'll just be wondering and making up all sorts of things. Alright, now you have to remember that I wasn't really used to being in a family and having a reasonable person looking after me."

"Of course," Severus rolled his eyes again. "Same with me. Now tell me the story. Alright, please."

. . .

"I am not going to my room!" Harry yelled at the face of the irate potions master seconds after the door closed. "This is not fair!"

"It is perfectly fair," Snape informed him, his voice icy. "And you heard what I said in front of Mrs. Anderson. And you will go to your room now before you incur any further consequences."

Harry, trembling a bit at the audacity of yelling at his guardian, hunched up a bit as if to ward off a blow. He couldn't believe that he had just yelled at his guardian and the very wrath of God hadn't descended upon him. Or at least the wrath of Professor Snape.

"She's lying!" Harry tried again, though this time trying not to yell. "I didn't do it!"

"Whether or not you did is not up for debate at the moment," Snape informed him. "Your obedience is. Your failure to obey is already costing you a worse punishment, how much worse will you make it?"

"You are a damned liar!" Harry exploded, tears running down his cheeks and emotions exploding beyond his control. "You told me you would never punish me unfairly!"

Snape surveyed the youngster, torn between wanting to offer the boy a hug or a swift slap on the bottom. Though he was being stern with Harry and felt that the boy absolutely had to learn to obey and not just when he felt like it, he also felt some sympathy for the boy. He had no reason to believe that Snape wouldn't punish him harshly for the neighbor's accusations, and he was pretty sure that Harry wasn't lying about that. And Harry finally showing some temper was also a good thing – it showed that he was starting to trust his guardian a bit. The child would never have yelled at Vernon Dudley like that, the punishment would have been far too harsh. But he also could of course not tolerate this level of disrespect without some consequence – Harry had to respect his guardian. But Snape felt far more pleased at the boy yelling at him in a temper than cowering away from him in fear.

"I refuse to speak to you while you are in this state," Snape informed him in his stern Potions Master voice. "You will go to your bedroom, change into your pajamas, and I will come speak to you. Right now, I will count to ten. If you are not in your bedroom by the time my count is complete then I will bend you over right here and take a ruler to your backside for disrespect. After that, you will go to your bedroom as requested and we will discuss the neighbor's accusation. You make the choice."

Harry did not for a minute believe that Snape was not sincere in his threat, and tried hard to swallow the anger that had burst out of him. Was Snape going to get rid of him after that display? Would he believe the neighbor that Harry was a thief?

"One," Snape counted. "Two."

"It wasn't me," Harry pleaded again, beginning to panic.

"Three, four," Snape continued.

"Fine!" Harry yelled in exasperation. "Fine! I'm going!"

"Five, six," Snape persisted.

Not wanting to cut it too close to ten, Harry ran upstairs to his bedroom, stomping as hard as he could on the stairs. His door was safely closed behind him by the count of nine. As the door closed, Harry's anger faded rapidly and he began to panic. What was Snape going to do to him when he came up? Harry figured he would at least get the strap for his cheek in actually daring to yell at Snape, and that was if Snape felt merciful. This could be the instance where Harry got packed off back to his relatives, Snape including a note with him that he now understood why the Dursleys took such drastic disciplinary measures with him, he really was an uncontrollable freak.

Harry quickly changed into his pajamas and then laid on his bed, figuring this was the last time in a long time he could either lie on his back or lie on a real bed. He knew what being asked to change into his pajamas meant – he was going to be disciplined and stay in his room for the rest of the evening. But was that also reassuring in some way? If Snape were sending him or making him sleep in the closet, would he care about pajamas? At least he had had dinner already so depriving him of it wouldn't really be an option if the Professor had decided that this behavior was bad enough to warrant him breaking his word and not feeding him. It had been so nice, living here, he reflected. It wasn't just the regular meals and the magic lessons – although both of those had filled equally gnawing hungers in him. No, there was something nicer than having a real room and a real bed – and that was having a guardian who cared about those things.

Snape might snap and growl at him, but he always made sure that Harry was well-fed and taken care of, and even on occasion let Harry hug him. Harry had never imagined that he could have such a thing – a relationship with an adult that he actually enjoyed. In his life before there had really been nobody there, well maybe that new nurse at school. She hadn't been told yet that he was a crazy freak, and her sharp eyes had spotted his bruises and malnutrition. He remembered when he had brought her up to Snape, and the Professor had agreed to let him write her a letter letting her know that the child authorities had removed him and he was very happy in a new town with a new guardian. Nobody else would have cared.

And that thought brought the tears anew to Harry's eyes – now he had someone that very much did care. Someone who actually checked that he brushed his teeth and got him glasses that worked properly – and who seemed to enjoy having him around. How could Harry have yelled at him like that? And called him a liar? Or worse, a damned liar? Harry began to sob then, burying his face in his pillow and wishing he had a potion that could turn back time and he could have handled that entire situation differently.

"Crying before your smacking," Snape drawled as he entered the room. "Don't think that will make me go easier on you."

"I'm so sorry," Harry told him, though he eyed the ruler that was held in Snape's hand warily. "I really am. I don't know what came over me." Harry sniffed, trying to get control over his wavering voice.

"I'm sure false accusations do that," Snape acknowledged.

"You knew she was lying?" Harry asked incredulously. He had been prepared to protest his innocence, and here the Professor took all that fight away.

"I don't think she was," Snape corrected. "I think she thought she was telling the truth, at least as far as she knew it. But I also know you, Harry, and if you had stolen her nephew's bicycle I would have been able to tell."

"Then why did you send me to my room if you knew I was innocent?" Harry asked incredulously.

"You were about to say something impolite to her," Snape sighed. "I saw it on your face. You were so frightened that I might believe her you were getting ready to fight. Think, what would have happened then? Would she have believed you?"

"No," Harry realized slowly.

"I will modify the situation later," Snape told him. "The bicycle will be found, and it will be found somewhere that makes it clear it wasn't you. I personally would have suspected one of the McNabb boys before you, but there you go. And Mrs. Anderson is a terrible gossip, anything you said or did would have amplified twelvefold before being shared around the neighborhood. We would have been lucky if any child would have been allowed to play with you after that."

"I see," Harry nodded, understanding. There was his guardian, trying to look after him again. And he yelled and had a fit like a baby. He felt the tears begin again, slipping silently down his cheeks.

"If you had obeyed me as you should have Mrs. Anderson would have continued to see me as a stern guardian keeping his ward under strict control so she wouldn't have to worry about there being a 'foundling' in the neighborhood. And I would have come up to your room, reassured you that I did not believe her, and taught you a spell for discovering stolen items. But instead, we now need to deal with your disobedience and disrespect."

"I'm so sorry," Harry said, wiping the flowing tears. "I should have known you wouldn't punish me for something I didn't do."

"You do enough to deserve punishment," Snape told him. "You don't need anybody to add to it. Being angry isn't why you're to be punished, it was your refusal to obey and calling me a 'damned liar.' If you must insult me, please stick to things that are actually true; I have enough faults to spawn many insults. Now, what do you think your consequences ought to be in this instance?"

Used to Slytherins being adept and trying to reduce culpability and punishments, he assumed that Harry would begin arguing against the ruler he held in his hand. Instead, Harry gulped and nodded.

"The belt then," he said quietly. "I'm wearing one today if you're not. I'll take off my shirt too so it will, well, so it will hurt more."

"I'm not giving you the belt, Harry," Snape told him quietly and with a note of exasperation.

"But not . . ."

"Not the cane either," Snape told him, cutting that predictable train of thought off. "Harry, you lack some basic self-preservation. You should be trying to talk me into reducing your sentence."

"You already have," Harry told him, looking away. "You're not getting rid of me, anything else is better."

"For the last bloody time I'm not getting rid of you!" Snape told him with greater exasperation. "Great will be the day when you actually believe me on this point!"

"It just seems strange that you'd want me here."

"Strange to more than yourself," Snape mused. "Now consider this part of your education – I want you to try and talk me into reducing your sentence."

"You want me to argue with you?" Harry asked, surprised. "Wouldn't you rather I just, you know, bend over?"

"I'm not raising a bloody Hufflepuff!" Snape snapped at him again. "Of course I wouldn't! Now defend yourself!"

"I'm really very sorry that I said those things," Harry told him, trying to obey but finding it very odd. "I won't do it again. I just got kind of scared and panicked, I wasn't trying to be naughty really."

"Good argument," Snape told him, nodding. "If your actions had had malice that certainly would have increased it. Now make a counterproposal for a lesser punishment that seems too low to be reasonable so you have room to negotiate."

"I know I need some official punishment to show your displeasure," Harry told him, echoing the words the Professor often used before whacking him. "But it doesn't need to be a bad one. How would you feel about five whacks with just your hand?"

"I would think you are not a five year old," Snape answered, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "How about five strokes with the ruler or fifteen with my hand? Your choice."

"I'll take the fifteen with your hand," Harry agreed, relieved. This wasn't a harsh punishment at all.

Professor Snape raised his eyebrow, causing Harry to correct, "I mean, how about twelve with your hand?"

"Agreed," Snape nodded, putting down the ruler and seating himself on the edge of the bed. Harry obeyed Snape without him having to say a word, placing himself over the man's bony lap and waiting for his comeuppance.

"There will be many times, Harry, that you will need to obey without knowing why," Snape told him. "I hope that you are able to trust me enough to know that what I do is in your best interest, always. You can be mad at me and tell me so, but you need to do so in a way that won't get you into trouble."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, feeling even more shamed. It was bad enough to be bent over offering your backside for punishment but then to be reminded that your guardian cares about you and you were an idiot for not trusting him made it even worse.

"Twelve it is then," Snape nodded, and proceeded to apply the sentence to the young miscreant's backside. He made the smacks firm, knowing the lad deserved and expected it, but reluctant in the actual doing of it. He had long ago given up thinking of Harry as James' son, but now very much thought of Harry as his.

"Twelve," Snape announced with the last slap, aimed firmly on his upper thighs. "Your punishment is complete."

Harry cried out a little, but they both knew that this punishment was nothing compared to what he had endured and even expected to endure in this instance. Harry pushed himself off Snape's lap, reluctant to leave the closeness he felt there. He looked at his guardian wondering if this was one of those times that he was going to get a cuddle afterwards.

"A quick cuddle then," Snape told him, knowing what the boy wanted. "I swear, most children are furious when they're corrected and the last thing they want is a cuddle afterwards."

"Why is that?" Harry asked, quickly positioning himself on his guardian's lap and sinking into his chest. "It's all over and it wasn't even that bad."

"I think most kids are mad they were punished."

"I just like to know that you still like me," Harry answered, his voice small. "It feels good that you do."


	17. Chapter 17 - The Dark Mark

_AN: I just wanted to take a minute and thank readers for all of the thoughtful and thought-provoking comments I have gotten on this story. This encouragement means the world to me. I especially want to thank Krosi and Chrissysmiles for specific suggestions I used in this chapter – Krosi for talking about the dark mark and Chrissysmiles for the discussion of the quill._

* * *

Severus found himself the next day looking at the potions book and contemplating the story that Harry had told him. Had he really been able to be that kind to a nine-year-old Harry? Not kind really, he mused, but rather gruff and prickly while still being reassuring. And Harry had adored him as his father, he could tell. He thought for a minute about Harry as a father too like he had been – could he grow to care about Harry like Harry had grown to care for Professor Snape? What would that even be like?

Trying to distract himself, he put his finger on the word "de-age." What did that mean? He saw "Uncle" George nearby, and had a feeling that he was hanging out to answer questions. But did he have to call the idiot "Uncle"?

"Mr. Weasley?" he asked politely. "Can I ask a question?"

George pretended to ignore the request, and even picked up a feather duster and began to whistle.

"Mr. Weasley?" he tried again, a little louder.

"I do believe I hear some sort of muttering," George said to himself. "Almost as if someone forgot that I do not answer to Mr. Weasley."

Severus rolled his eyes in exasperation. This frustrating adult child! When he was a professor he was going to punish imbeciles like him!

"Uncle George?" he asked sarcastically, trying to keep his temper under control. It wouldn't do if he got so frustrated he couldn't ask anything of use.

"Yes, my dear Snapeykins?" he answered playfully. "May I be of assistance?"

"I have a question," Severus admitted, feeling like the most patient person ever in dealing with this crazy person. "What is de-aging?"

"Why, making someone younger!" George told him. "Aging is making someone older, and de-aging is making someone younger."

"But it seems as if de-ageing someone doesn't change their memories," Severus persisted, studying the page. "It just makes their body younger, but inside they're still the same person."

"Right you are!" George answered excitedly. "It is kind of like a transfiguration spell or potion."

"Then I haven't been de-aged," he concluded. "I don't remember anything."

"Nothing?" George pressed, his voice low and excited. "Not even a dream?"

"Nothing," Severus shook his head. "I felt like I went to sleep in my own bed and woke up in the infirmary, and time passed for everyone else."

"Wait a minute," George thought, his forehead wrinkling. "Do you have a tattoo?"

"What?" Severus asked blankly.

"Let me see your arm," George told him excitedly. "No, not that one, the other one."

Severus held up his arm, and George frantically pulled back the sleeve to reveal Severus' arm, pale and skinny. And with no mark whatsoever.

"It's gone," George marveled.

"What's gone?" Severus snarled, pulling back his arm defensively. Even though he knew it to be safe with George, he couldn't still help but be a bit suspicious that George was going to do something to hurt him. Nothing George said made any sense.

"Your Dark Mark, mate," George answered, his voice getting excited. "Nobody told me! Did you have any marks on you when you changed?"

"Just a few bruises I had gotten in the week before," Severus shrugged, not wanting to admit the source of those bruises. "Madame Pomfrey healed them mostly."

"You are brilliant!" George exclaimed. "Bloody brilliant!"

"What are you talking about?" Severus asked, suspicious.

"Don't you see?" George demanded. "Most de-aging potions just make your current body younger. You keep your memories and everything and if that was what you used you would still have that bloody dark mark on your arm."

"So I wasn't de-aged?"

"No!" George happily agreed. "If you were you could have been aged back in a snap! Because you already would have the blueprint to aging yourself in your head, so it would just be a matter of cancelling the spell, do you understand?"

"Not really," Severus admitted.

"Look, let's say that I had a hundred galleons in my bank account from doing work. I know, seems unlikely," his eyes sparkled. "And then I spend the money. But I know how I got it, it has happened before, and putting another hundred in wouldn't be that difficult, right? I have the framework for it. But if I went to a baby and demanded that he put a hundred galleons in a bank account, I'm likely as not just to get peed on. Because a baby has no framework for doing it – no concept. And you're like the baby."

"I am not!" Severus objected.

"Your bloody brilliant adult counterpart instead somehow figured out how to link time travel to you being de-aged," George ignored Severus' objections. "You are not simply a drained bank account waiting to be refilled, you are something new altogether. And reversing this is going to be wicked difficult."

"Can it be done?" Severus asked, realizing he wasn't really sure what he wanted the answer to be.

"Maybe," George admitted, looking more somber. "But if anybody can bloody do it, it's the two of us. We have much work ahead of us, and I need to procure some books on time travel. But there's also one more bloody question I had never thought of before."

"What's that?" Severus asked.

"Why you were doing this to research an anti-aging cream for women to use on their faces? I'm starting to wonder if there might be more to that story."

. . .

That evening, Snape sat at the table in the common room practicing with his quill. Hermione had explained to him nervously that she was starting him with a self-inking, self-sharpening quill to make things easier, and to reduce potential violence done with ink-pots. He didn't understand what she meant, he had of course played with pens and pencils before even though he couldn't really write. And Hermione had him practicing writing his letters with a normal pen. But, she decided that he needed to start learning the fundamentals of the quill so he would be ready for Hogwarts, and so he was filling pages with endless curves and angles to practice for making real letters. This made him realize her hesitancy – it was bloody frustrating! He wanted to throw the quill across the room, he probably wouldn't have been able to resist something as tempting as an ink pot.

"George said you had quite the day," he heard his guardian say behind him. "He said that you two may be onto something."

"Something about me not being de-aged," Severus answered, gritting his teeth a little as he tried to make the quill obey him. "Oh, and I wanted to ask you. What's the dark mark?"

"The dark mark?" Harry asked, his voice cracking a little bit. "Why do you ask about that?"

"George seemed to think me not having it was important," Severus answered, putting down the quill in frustration. "Was it something Professor Snape had?"

"He did," Harry admitted, and found himself sitting down almost unconsciously. "But I'm not sure I'm really able to talk about it."

Severus then looked at Harry critically, and saw that his guardian had paled. "What was it?" he asked directly. "I think I need to know if it's that important."

"You know that you were, well, complicated," Harry answered carefully. "You had, well, you had a past. You had had a hard upbringing and when you were in school you were, well, vulnerable."

"I know all that," Severus snapped. "What did Professor Snape do?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are starting out as if to excuse his behavior," Snape answered. "You're about to tell me what he did wrong. What was it?"

"You have to understand that it was a different time then," Harry told him. "There was a person who was trying to gain power, and he appealed to lots of prejudices and talked a good talk. His name was Voldemort."

"And Professor Snape helped him?" Severus surmised.

"He did," Harry agreed. "His closest followers were called the Death Eaters, and they all carried a mark on their arm called the dark mark. It was a special kind of magical tattoo that he used to communicate with his followers and . . . well, and to punish them."

"But I thought he was . . . on the side of good."

"He was, eventually," Harry assured him. "He was only loyal to Voldemort for a short while. Then Voldemort went . . . well, he went too far. He decided to target me, and in turn my mom Lily who you were a child with. You turned to the other side in order to try and protect her."

"But she died anyway," Severus said, putting the stories together.

"She did," Harry nodded. "He killed my mom and dad but because of a spell my mom did and her willingness to sacrifice herself for me, I didn't die."

"Was he still good then?" Severus asked.

"He was always a bit complicated," Harry tried to explain. "By the time he was my guardian and then my father he was definitely good, but he also wasn't exactly Arthur Weasley either. But when he switched sides he became a double agent and was basically what brought down Voldemort in the end. And raised me, of course."

"What was the mark like?" Severus asked.

"Well, you didn't really show me often," Harry admitted. "It was a skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth. I mean, it was really kind of scary. When Voldemort was alive most of the time it was just kind of normal, but if Voldemort called the Professor it would sort of come alive and burn. I would know you were being called if your arm hurt."

"And after Voldemort died?"

"It faded and never burned again," Harry told him. "But it was still there. Professor Snape used to say that dark magic always left a mark. He tried a few times to remove it, but nothing ever worked."

"George was very surprised that I didn't have the mark now," Severus explained.

"You know, I had just thought of it as normal thing because you de-aged, but you're right in that it's kind of odd. If you'd simply been de-aged then you would still have it."

"I also had the marks from my life before," Severus explained. "George thought that very odd. He said that it was more like time travel than being de-aged."

"Hmm," Harry answered, deep in thought. "That is rather odd. I wonder what Professor Snape could have been working on."

"George said that he didn't think it was a simple face cream."

"I'm inclined to agree," Harry nodded. "There's something else afoot here."

. . .

Later that night, after Severus was tucked into bed, Harry purposely took the floo back to Hogwarts. Making his way through the school with determination, he felt more sure of himself with every step. She had to know something.

"Harry?" the Headmistress greeted him. "This is unexpected. Is everything alright with your charge?"

"Things are going well with him," Harry nodded. "But I am here to ask for something else. I would like my father's working journal."

"It wasn't amongst his things?" she asked, a touch too innocently.

"It wasn't," Harry confirmed. "And I believe that you know that rather directly."

"You have to realize that a person doesn't keep a working journal like Snape did and expect his son to read it," McGonagall hedged. "He was always a rather private person."

"I understand," Harry nodded. "But I think we're getting to the point that we need to know more. George is trying to figure out how to reverse the spell, and some things aren't adding up. We need to know what he was working on."

"Are you sure you want to know, Harry?" she asked softly. "There could be more there than you want to know."

"You've read it," Harry surmised.

"I have," she nodded. "It took me three hours to crack the security on the silly thing, and I'm not even sure I would have been able to get into it had Severus not been transformed with it open and not having its full protections enabled."

"I would like to read it," Harry told her. "It could help."

"I will grant your request and give it to you to read," she told him. "But I have to know if that's what you really want."

"Why wouldn't I?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Well, most of the time we aren't privy to our parents' inner thoughts and foibles," she explained. "It might be more than you want to know."

"How bad is it?"

"Not too bad," she confirmed. "But it certainly makes him appear more human than I ever gave him credit for. And there is also the question of whether or not you truly want to return him to his adult form."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"When you read the journal you will understand," McGonagall nodded. "Yes, I think now that my decision to take the journal may not have been the best. I wonder if in protecting my colleague I have unintentionally obscured too much of what you need to know. Very well, I shall prepare a copy of his journal and have it owled to you by tomorrow lunchtime. I would like to keep the original here as part of Hogwarts' documents; he really was a such a brilliant potions master."

"I understand," Harry nodded. "I look forward to reading it. You may omit anything that you think I really shouldn't see."

"I think most of it is appropriate," McGonagall told him gently. "It's just rather sad. He wrote with the expectation of privacy but I don't think his spy instincts would ever allow him to record something too incriminating. Now, would you like some tea or some firewhiskey? I might even have some scotch somewhere."

"I should get home to Severus," Harry shook his head. "He sometimes wakes and I like to be there if he does."

"You are a good father for someone so young," she observed, a note of pride in her voice.

"I learned from the best," Harry replied with a smile. "Thank you, Headmistress."


	18. Chapter 18 - Plausible Deniability

Harry watched his young charge at breakfast the next day through heavy lids. He had stayed up far to long the night before reading through his father's working journal, and he felt more conflicted than ever. How had he not known the depth of the fear and flashbacks his father endured? That the Occlumency he was so gifted at was an obvious result of trying to escape not only his abusive childhood but what he had endured as a spy for the Death Eaters? Harry had given the journal to Hermione early this morning to go over, as there was much he didn't understand. And he was sure that McGonagall had removed some of the most sensitive parts, but it was clearly telling by the potions he was working on developing. And although it gave him some more insight, there was no clear charge either way on whether this was something the adult Professor Snape had wanted.

"Tired?" Severus asked, his hypervigilant gaze resting on his guardian suspiciously. He was used to looking for behaviors in adults that could lead to his own misery, and he did not like the look of his guardian right now.

"I am, yes," Harry answered, trying to keep his voice neutral. "I had trouble sleeping last night."

"Perhaps a nap later?" Ginny suggested, finishing up her tea. "Maybe while Severus is with George or mum?"

"Perhaps," Harry nodded. "I would actually like to have tea with you, are you free during that time this afternoon?"

"I'm sorry I can't," she told him. "We have people lined up for tryouts and they need me there. Is there another time we could do it?"

Harry nodded, making a decision. He turned towards Severus, who had just stuffed the last bit of pancake in his mouth. He instinctively knew this was going to be a big ask.

"Severus, I need to ask something of you," he told him.

"What?" he asked, curiously.

"I need to talk to the grown ups," Harry told him. "And I need to do it without you overhearing."

"It's about me," he replied pugnaciously.

"It is," Harry confirmed. "I have recently received your working journal from what you were working on at the time of the accident."

"I want to see it!" Severus insisted.

"I will let you, or at least parts of it," Harry agreed. "But first I need to talk about some of the implications of the journal with the other grownups before I feel ready to talk about it with you. Can you give me that space?"

"Were you going to just not tell me if Ginny had been able to meet you this afternoon?" he accused.

"Yes," Harry answered simply. "And I still can arrange for a time that we can meet with no chance of you eavesdropping. But I decided I'd rather ask you and have you know."

"What if I don't agree?" he asked.

"Then I will put you in a room, lock the door, and threaten you with a ruler if you try and eavesdrop," Harry told him, his voice pitching a bit stern. "But I would rather have your cooperation."

"And exactly what part of me makes you think I will cooperate?" Severus grumbled, looking away. He did not want to agree to this."

Harry didn't answer, but waited for what he hoped would be capitulation. Severus sighed, rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll do it," he grumbled. "But I'm not happy about it."

"You don't have to be," Harry answered easily. "And thank you. Why don't you get started on your work this morning, I believe Hermione has it laid out for you in the study."

"Don't lock me in," Severus told him.

"I won't," Harry promised. "But can you agree to an alarm on the door that will alert me if you open it? It would be good for you to have a way to contact me if there's a problem."

"Alright," Severus reluctantly agreed.

"Get started and I'll get the group together."

"Include George Weasley," Severus told him.  
"Why George?" Harry asked, surprised.

"He thinks differently," Severus admitted. "And he seems to be the one that is the most sure about being able to get me back to my age. He should be there too."

"I will call him," Harry promised. "I'll come and get you when we're done."

"Don't forget me," Severus growled again. "And don't forget that you are going to tell me about this."

"I will tell you what I deem appropriate, scamp," Harry laughed at him. "Now go into the study like a good boy."

With the walk of an offended rooster, Severus made his way to the study and Harry quickly set the alarm spell. He wanted none of what he was going to say be overheard by his ward, but he was also eager to hear what the others thought. Within minutes he had the principal players in the kitchen with a muffling spell around them.

"What is all this about?" George asked. "All this dramatic floo calling?"

"I have just received my father's working journal from the time of the accident," Harry told them. "Well, most if it anyway. McGonagall took out a few parts she thought it best that I didn't read."

"Aren't those things supposed to self destruct upon someone's death?" Ron asked.

"They are," Hermione answered, looking weary herself. "But of course, Professor Snape didn't exactly die, did he?"

"So you have the secret musings of Professor Snape at your fingertips?" Ron asked, aghast. "Harry, that solves it. You could never bring him back to an adult now, he'd kill you!"

"Actually, we're not sure that's what he would want anyway," Hermione interjected. "This journal has been very interesting reading, Harry."

"It's not what I was expecting," Harry told her.

"Me neither," Hermione nodded. "Granted, this was just a cursory reading and I have a lot of research to do to understand it better . . ."

"Just give us the main points," Ron told her. "We can refine it later."

"Well, it appears from the potions that Professor Snape was developing that he suffered from severe PTSD," she told them. "He struggled with intrusive thoughts and dreams, dissociative reactions, and and impending sense of dread."

"He was always a bit . . . testy," Harry told her. "But I had no idea he had it as bad as the journal seemed to imply."

"He went to great lengths to conceal it," Hermione told him. "He took his own variety of dreamless sleep so he could take it longer than recommended, and he was working on a new potion to aid his occlumency against intrusive thoughts and dissociation."

"Is that why he was so brilliant on occlumency then?" Harry asked, a bit choked. "He was simply trying to survive?"

"PTSD is a very serious mental illness, Harry," Hermione told him. "From the lengths that he went through to try and treat himself, I think his very survival did depend on him developing new potions."

"Was it all from when he did the spying?" Ron asked. "Or was some of it from his childhood as well?"

"I did have time to read a little bit of the literature around PTSD in kids," Hermione told him. "That was my first question as well. From what I understand a child with a history of abuse is far more likely to contract it as an adult when placed in traumatic circumstances. The study I read said something about a soldier with an abusive childhood was three times more likely to develop PTSD after combat."

"He was certainly in combat," Ron breathed. "Bloody hell. Imagine what he saw serving that great noseless freak?"

"It makes you wonder what McGonagall left out."

"I think she probably left out more personal notes," Hermione surmised. "I have been developing a theory just about the placement of the missing pages. By what I've read, what I think she left out was intended to give Harry the choice of re-aging Severus. I believe if Harry had read the journal in its entirety he would have felt honor-bound not to re-age Snape at all because of the depths of his struggles with his trauma."

"But doesn't he already have some level of PTSD because of his childhood so far?" Ginny asked.

"He does," Hermione nodded. "But studies have shown how much neuroplasticity that children have in these circumstances. If they can actually bond to and feel safe with a caregiver, then they can often heal from it. It's much harder for an adult."

"McGonagall did hint from the very beginning that Severus needed a good shot at a second chance," Harry agreed with chagrin.

"And she didn't want to take your dad away," George nodded. "She knew you'd be all noble and selfless about it."

"Well, now we know," Harry sighed. "I don't think there's a way I can send him back to that if that's really how he felt. But how do I know if that's how he felt?"

"Ageing cream," George answered, smirking. "He invented a bloody time travel cream when he was trying to cure wrinkles. I think he subconsciously wished for this to happen, I don't believe it was an accident at all."

"He wanted to become nine and have me raise him?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I see what George is saying," Ginny nodded to him. "What if he could never really wish that, but a part of him did? Couldn't that have contributed to the accident? I mean, why else would he be tampering with time travel to cure wrinkles if it wasn't on his mind?"

"That does make a certain type of sense," Hermione confirmed. "Looking at his notes on the face cream there does seem to be a certain odd . . . inspiration. But I don't think there's any way to know for sure, Harry, unless you think you can be more persuasive with Professor McGonagall than you already have been."

"She's trying to protect me," Harry argued. "You know that's when she gets the most stubborn."

"Protect plausible deniability," George corrected. "So if you wanted your dad back you could have his without guilt. I spent most of my childhood aiming for plausible deniability."

"So what do I do?" Harry asked, his voice cracking. "Do I give up getting my dad back?"

George, with flourish, removed a small vial of vivid green from the inner pocket of his lush, purple robes. He placed the vial in front of Harry with a flourish. "Your wish is my command, sir."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"In front of you I have one of the newest inventions coming to the store," he told him. "It was dreamed up by not other than our own dearly sort of departed potions master. It's called an If potion."

"An If potion?" Harry asked, looking at the bottle with suspicion.

"It is still in testing, but seems to work quite well," George told him. "It allows the drinker to have a vision in which he sees his desire play out. For you, you could see what would happen if we were able to re-age little Snapey-poo."

"How does it work?" Harry asked, skeptical.

"Well, you can do it with your little Snapeykins," George told him. "In fact, it would be better to do it. The potion will take into account the scaffolding you can provide for what you knew about him as well as the history little Snapey has right now. Then the potion decides on the most realistic rendering possible."

"So it's not really him, though?" Harry asked. "Just the version of him in my head?"

"That's powerful enough," George told him. "You knew him well. And he isn't your pet dog or some idealized version of Snape either, he will be how you remember him. For example, I expect him to give you a slap on the back of your head for your cheek."

"What cheek?" Harry asked, laughing.

"The cheek of having the audacity to spank his younger self or to not discipline him firmly enough," George laughed. "I can see it now."

"He did do that in later years," Harry laughed, unconsciously touching the back of his head. "After he decided I was too old to take a ruler to. It never really hurt, it was more meant to get my attention."

"Any side effects of this potion?" Ginny asked suspiciously, having been exposed to too many side effects in her life with her brothers.

"Anything that happens in the vision happens to you," George explained. "I mean, if you decide for your If potion to jump off a cliff and break your leg, your leg will really hurt. It wouldn't be broken necessarily, but you would feel it. The vision is much more real than a dream."

"Sounds okay with me if it's really the Professor," Harry nodded. "I'll just make sure I'm not dreaming up the 'noseless freak' or Lucius Malfoy or anything."

"Especially your scaffolding of them," George laughed. "It's based on your experiences with them, remember."

"We will need to discuss this with Severus and see if it's what he wants to do," Harry told them. "If people think it's a good idea?"

"The potion George is talking about is mentioned in Snape's journal," Hermione confirmed. "It's really just a form of pensive with more muscle memory. It should be fine."

"I think being able to see what would happen would help me," Ron shrugged.

"It would help Severus as well," Ginny added. "Maybe he could even get advice from his older self? I think it would be something I would want if this decision was put before me."

"Alright, I will talk with him this morning," Harry nodded. "Anything we need to be careful about talking to him about? The Headmistress thinks I talk way too much about the older Professor Snape."

"Promise you won't punish him until later," George asked.

"After telling him prematurely about the dark mark without my permission you're on thin ice to be making requests," Harry narrowed his eyes. "But why would I be punishing my ward today?"

"Promise, or no can tell," George smirked at him. "I'm not saying to never take a ruler to the naughty lad, just delay a little."

"What did he do, mate?" Ron asked sternly, a little embarrassed that his brother wouldn't answer. "C'mon, is he safe?"

"Perfectly safe," George answered.

"I promise," Harry sighed after a pause. "Now tell me what it is."

"I believe Severus to be currently winding up the extendable ears he nicked from my shop," George told them conspiratorially. "Do you know we've figured out how to make them beat a muffling spell? Good bit of spellwork, that."

* * *

 _AN: Could some of my British readers let me know if you've ever heard or used the term "Raising Cain"? As in, Harry and the twins went out on the town, drinking and raising Cain. Thanks!_


	19. Chapter 19 - The If Potion

_AN: I know that this story is going slower than I normally write, thanks for sticking with me! I hope everyone has a very merry and safe holiday season, however you choose to celebrate._

* * *

"And what do you think you're doing?" Harry demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at his ward.

"I think you know," Severus answered flippantly, finishing winding up the ears. His voice was flippant, but he watched his guardian carefully. He tried very hard to hide the fact that he was somewhat afraid of what his guardian might do in this circumstance, but was trying hard not to show it.

"I'll take that," Harry told him sternly in a voice that broached no opposition.

Sighing, Severus handed him the ears. It's not like he would ever be able to use them again anyway, he told himself practically.

"I believe that ear is mine," George announced with a smirk. "I wouldn't want to trust it with you, Harry, you understand. I seem to remember yourself getting up to some mischief with those when you were young."

"I've since learned not to eavesdrop," Harry told him, handing him the ears. "I would want my ward to learn the same."

"You promised to whack him later," George reminded him. "Right now you have more important fish to fry."

"This was very disobedient," Harry told his young charge. "You lied to me when I was trying to be honest with you. Trust goes both ways, you know."

"You shouldn't have tried to hide it from me!" Snape snapped, the fear he was feeling bubbling up. "You treat me like some protected child with no idea how the world works! Do you even know what I've lived through?"

"You are not in a position to correct me!" Harry sternly replied. "Stop this at once!"

"Then who is in the position?" he yelled. "Your fiancée? The one that is so scared of me that she can barely say boo to me and come to find out that she actually is some sort of badass professional athlete?"

"That's my sister!" Ron objected, though he snickered a bit at the observation. It has mystified him how his normally tough sister seemed a bit at a loss on how to deal with this miniature Snape.

Severus turned his glare towards Ron, and not skipping a second, continued, "Or that overgrown child that masquerades as your best friend that treats me as if I'm some sort of juvenile delinquent?"

"Severus . . ." Hermione started in a calm voice.

"And you! You who are so sure of yourself and what you read that you never actually listen to me?!"

"Bravo!" George interrupted the tirade. "Bravo. Someone could almost be fool enough to think you more angry than scared about getting caught. Excellent pageantry."

"You are insane, you know that," Severus scornfully retorted, but something about how George named what he was feeling also made him calm down a little.

"Never claimed otherwise," George agreed. "I honestly cannot fault any of your observations."

"Then maybe you should get up enough courage to actually marry that girl you're always mooning over," Severus shot back angrily. "Just because you lost your brother doesn't mean that you should just never love anyone again."

"Go to your room," Harry told Severus sternly, trying to get control of the situation.

"I can hardly see how that will be effective," George answered, mentally forcing himself to not react to Severus' baiting him. "Don't you want to try out the If potion?"

"I'm not sure my young ward is in a place to do it," Harry sternly gazed at his ward. "I believe he needs some time to collect himself, even if his discipline is to be delayed."

"On the contrary," George argued. "He's already heard all of the necessary information, and I believe delay would simply heighten everyone's anxiety and might make the potion not work as well. Remember, it goes from what you are thinking. The more time the young Severus has a chance to think about how his older self might receive him, I believe the further from truth that reality might be."

Harry caught Severus' eye, who looked away quickly. Harry had to admit he was tempted to agree with what George suggested, even though this seemed like a situation where he should gain more control than he currently had. Feeling that increasingly familiar pang of wishing his father were there to talk to, he looked at Ginny. "What do you think?" he asked.

Ginny, seemingly still reeling a bit from what Severus had said about her, shook herself a bit and looked at Harry. "George has a rather annoying habit of being right," she told Harry. "And if this potion does what he says it does, then he's probably right about doing it before Severus has a chance to dread meeting his future self."

"Do you think you can do this, Severus?" Harry asked him, nodding at Ginny.

Severus squirmed, finding Harry treating him like this to be much more unnerving than if Harry had simply done the rational thing and backhanded him for his cheek. And adults asking questions like this felt dangerous, did Harry really want to know what he thought?

"I can do this," Severus answered, for the moment swayed by honesty. He could admit to himself how much he wanted to see his future self, and how much the question of whether or not he should even be restored to his older age disturbed him. And he also felt the tug to delay the inevitable confrontation with his guardian over breaking his word and eavesdropping as well as nicking the extendable ears in the first place. He had a feeling that Harry was not going to be lenient with him.

"Do you understand that who we see won't really be Professor Snape," Harry explained. "But rather an extension of who both of us experience and remember him to be. But we hope that it's enough to help us make the decision of whether or not we should pursue making you your right age again."

"I understand," Severus nodded. "But was he, well, I mean, he seemed pretty strict . . ."

"He was," Harry nodded. "But he was also incredibly fair and often kind in a sort of no-nonsense way."

"Were you scared of him?" Severus asked Harry.

"Not really," Harry answered honestly. "I mean, I was pretty scared when I knew I had done something wrong and he was going to discipline me for it, but not really scared of him. I've told you enough stories, haven't I? I was actually very fond of him."

"Are you scared to see him now?" Severus asked, realizing suddenly that this could actually be hard on his guardian.

"Not really," Harry laughed. "Though maybe a bit nervous about his opinions about my raising you. But, as George said, it won't do any good to delay. Are you scared?"

"No," Severus replied, though a bit too quickly. "No, I want to meet him."

"Simply sit on the floor facing each other then," George directed. "Hold both hands, and I'll give you each a bit of the potion. After you drink it I have some simple spell work to do to make sure you see Professor Snape and not some other random thought in your head. But if you can concentrate on the Professor it would help."

"How long does it last?" Harry asked, getting into position facing his small ward. For some reason the size of his ward came into stark contrast as he sat facing him – was he ever this impossibly small?

"You will have about ten minutes from the dose I'm giving you," George explained. "If you want it to end early you just have to say the safe word – for this potion it is Fred."

"Why is that the safe word?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I figured it would not come up in normal conversation but be easy to remember," George smiled sadly, and Harry saw a glimpse of the grief that his friend still bore over the loss of his twin. "Besides, Fred would have liked to be part of this caper."

"Caper?" Hermione questioned. "Why do I feel like this is a plan to steal a toilet seat somewhere?"

"So suspicious, that one!" George declared, his jolly self returning. "Now open up wee test subjects and prepare for some very nasty tasting potion."

Harry held the small, cold hands of Severus as he let George pour a small amount of an admittedly foul potion in his mouth. He forced himself to swallow it as he heard sputters of protest from his ward.

"Swallow it, mate," George advised. "Or Harry goes without you."

Harry could feel separation from his body start to happen, and he tried to focus on a mental picture of his father as he heard some unfamiliar chanting from George. He felt as if he floated through thick fog, and found himself grasping Severus' hands tightly so as not to lose him. "Hold tight!" he told the youngster.

"I'm here," Severus answered, and Harry could hear the note of panic in his voice.

And then, the room around them began to coalesce and Harry found himself in the front room of the house he shared with his Dad.

"Dad!" he exclaimed, seeing the darkly robed figure in the corner. Breaking hands with Severus, he scrambled to his feet.

Professor Snape, on the other hand, seemed much more determined in his actions. Without a word, he strode forward with the purposeful walk of a man offended, ruler in hand. Harry found himself shrinking back a little bit in reflex, fully believing that the man was about to give him a thorough smacking. Instead of Harry, however, the Professor plucked up the young Severus by the collar and, in a smooth motion, pulled him up and had him bent over his lap while seated on the sofa before the boy could hardly react. Severus did start fighting, however, as the first painful smack by that ruler landed firmly on his backside, though the Professor had him pinned in a way to effectively render protests useless.

"What?!" he protested, confused and struggling. "Stop!"

"The sheer audacity! The cheek!" Professor Snape growled as he brought down the ruler for another smack, not deterred in the slightest by Severus fighting back. "Stealing? Lying? Eavesdropping?" The ruler smacked down again, this time across the lad's upper thighs causing him to let out a cry of pain.

"That's enough," Harry said, feeling as if he could suddenly speak again.

Though Harry's voice wasn't loud, it carried throughout the room and Professor Snape paused in his assault on his younger self's backside. "What did you say?" he asked his son, his voice firm.

"That's enough, Dad," Harry repeated, his voice firmer.

"He deserves this," Professor Snape argued, though he lowered his hand holding the ruler but still keeping the lad pinned across his lap.

"He does," Harry agreed. "But it is not your place to give it to him."

"And I suppose it is yours?" Professor Snape asked, his voice serious.

"It is," Harry answered simply. "I'm his guardian now. Any punishments he earns should be given by me now."

"And are you up for this job?" Severus asked, his voice deadly serious. "This boy is going to be quite the handful, and I'm not even sure you eat vegetables unless I check."

"We've done well enough so far," Harry smiled. "And I promise you that I eat vegetables, Ginny makes me. Now, we have come to talk to you a bit about young Severus. If you could let him up?"

Professor Snape let go of the lad across his lap, and Severus sprang up, rushing behind Harry and crouching down.

"I see he seems to think you'll protect him," Professor Snape observed. "Then it is possible for my younger self to learn to trust."

"I think trust is in the early stages," Harry smiled. "But apparently I am at least less scary than you at the moment."

"Which reminds me," the Professor nodded, striding over to Harry purposefully. Severus clung to the back of Harry's robe, but Harry didn't really move because he was pretty sure what was coming. Sure enough, Professor Snape delivered a smart but not painful slap to the back of Harry's head. "That's for not disciplining my younger self enough," he scolded. "Harry, you must be firm if you're going to get anywhere with him. He's a Slytherin, not a Hufflepuff. If you're not careful he'll be ruling your household in a fortnight."

"But you need to remember that I'm a Gryffindor," Harry replied, more bemused than offended. "But I will try to remember your advice and be firm with him."

"Let me have a look at him then," Professor Snape told him. "Am I as scrawny as I remember?"

"He won't hurt you," Harry assured a crouching Severus. "I promise. Come on out."

"He hurt me already!" Severus protested, still hiding behind Harry.

"And I wonder which of us had that expectation," Harry smirked, pulling the child out from behind him. "Severus, this is Professor Snape. My father."

"Was I ever that small?" Professor Snape mused, looking at his younger self. "At least I seem to have had some spirit."

"We don't have a lot of time," Harry told Professor Snape. "And I know that you're really just a structure created by our brains, but we need some advice."

"And what advice would that be?"

"Should we try to get you back to your age?" Harry asked. "I mean, was it an accident? Did you do this on purpose? I don't know what to do. I want my father back, but I also don't know what to do about you as a child."

"School your emotions," Professor Snape told him firmly. "Don't let them rule you. Think about this logically. What do you know?"

"I know you were troubled," Harry confessed. "I knew about some of the potions you made and you took, though you were discreet."

"And you know how Halloween affected me," Snape replied quietly. "Though you respected my privacy enough never to ask about it."

"I knew," Harry replied. "And your repeated attempts to remove the remnants of the dark mark as well. But were you truly unhappy? What did you truly want?"

"I think you know that fully," Professor Snape answered. "And I think that too many more questions in this direction will render your Gryffindor nobility unable to bring me back as your father. If you want to keep me as your father, then you need to stop asking these questions."

"And condemn you to a life where you suffer?"

"My life has never been easy," Professor Snape shrugged. "You were always the one bright spot in it. I am willing to do what you need."

"I'm not a child anymore," Harry told his father. "I really don't need a father as much as I did once. But I did rather like having you there."

"And I you," the Professor answered with emotion. "Without my connection to you I would not have had the will to survive the war. You saved me as surely as that potion that I carried to counter Nagini's bite."

"But what happens to me?" Severus asked, finding his tongue.

"And there is that," Professor Snape answered, looking intensely at his younger self. "This boy is becoming a new creation. Already he is different than how I was."

"So if you re-age me I become instantly him?" Severus asked, worried. "I mean, would me as a kid die?"

"My adult self would most likely retain memories," Professor Snape explained. "But essentially, you as a child would not exist."

"It wasn't an accident," Harry breathed, suddenly realizing the truth as he watched his father. "You wouldn't have made a mistake like that. You made it seem like a mistake so that I could change you back if I needed you back as my father without guilt."

"Are you sure?" the Professor asked.

"It makes a lot more sense than a time travelling wrinkle potion and you making a mistake that big at potions."

"Interesting hypothesis," Professor Snape answered, lifting an eyebrow in interest. "I only know what you know, though I'm much better at organizing my thoughts. So, if you are right, what are the implications?"

"George knows more than he's letting on," Harry suddenly realized. "If this was on purpose, you would have planned it to the last detail. In fact, you probably have an antidote prepared if that was the decision I made."

"Don't I get a say in this too?" Severus protested.

"We will both make this decision together," Harry nodded. "Of course."

"And, if you are right, what else would I have done?" Professor Snape pressed.

"You would have left me a letter," Harry realized with certainty. "And I'm pretty sure it's George that has it."


	20. Chapter 20 - The Letter

_AN: Thank you for the great reviews! And a special shout out to the anonymous commenters that I cannot thank by message - Thank you! Your comments mean a lot to me. I hope everyone enjoys a wonderful holiday season._

* * *

"Give me the letter," Harry ordered George firmly as soon as the swirling stopped and he was back in his own front room.

"What letter?" George affected innocently.

"The one that Professor Snape left in your care," Harry told him. "I know he did. I've pretty much figured out that he did this on purpose, and if he did he would have left me a letter. Cough it up."

"You are a few weeks ahead of schedule," George admitted. "But I suppose you were intelligent in your own way. Snape said you would figure it out."

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, looking between Harry and George.

"The If potion worked," Harry told her. "Though I didn't learn anything I didn't already know, not really. I think that Professor Snape did this on purpose, and that it was no potions accident. And if that's true, he would probably have left me a letter as well as the antidote. And George is the most logical person."

"He can use logic!" George declared. "I told Snape it wasn't just Slytherins that could."

"You've orchestrated this whole thing?" Ron asked, astounded. "And you partnered with Professor Snape?"

"A keen mind and a deft hand at strategy, my boy," George answered his brother. "We had a mutually beneficial understanding. And he knew I could insert myself into this drama as it unfolded."

"I was right!" Harry declared. "I knew it!"

"He wanted you to have a taste of parenthood before you were given this letter," George told him. "He didn't tell me everything; I assume there is much in this letter I don't even know. But yes, I helped him plan this."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron pressed. "It would have saved a lot of confusion!"

"To what end?" George asked. "If you could have given the miniature Snapeykins the antidote on the first night, you have done so without hesitation? Yes?"

"Yes," Harry agreed. "Of course I would have."

"And now that you know him better and have started raising him, it becomes more complicated? Yes?"

"Of course," Hermione answered. "All of us have developed . . . sympathy for young Severus. But we don't like being manipulated!"

"Professor Snape can speak for himself," George answered, a rare serious look on his face as he pulled a letter from an inner pocket. "I would not even aspire to do it for him. I suggest we give Harry some privacy."

"I have a right to read it too!" Severus protested, though he then flushed to realize he wouldn't actually be able to do it.

"Of course," George answered. "But let's give the new daddy a little time to himself first, hmm? Maybe you and I could have a conversation about nicking the merchandise?"

"But why didn't that have a spell on it like the other things did?" Severus protested. "I think you wanted me to have it!"

"What a terrible thing to say!" George replied playfully. "I might get my adult card revoked for such a thing!"

Harry held the letter in his hands, staring at it and barely hearing the banter as his friends shooed his ward out of the room. He sat down on the couch bonelessly – what would this letter hold? It was proof that his father had actually de-aged himself and put himself as a child under Harry's care. He couldn't even believe the implications of that – that Snape could not only trust him that much but also be that miserable with his adult life.

Breaking the seal, Harry began to read.

Harry,

I have restarted this letter so many times that I can hardly force myself to once again. The impact on you was always the hardest part of my plan, and I waited until I thought that you could handle it while still holding onto enough of my sanity that I could make this choice well. I am so sorry that I have put you into the position you are in, and I deeply regret that I found it so necessary. I write this letter to atone in just a small way for the imposition I place upon you. But I have so much to atone for in my life, and I realize that a little parchment and ink in reality does very little to actually atone for anything. But let me give you the peace that I can.

It is not your fault that I am so broken. You have the frustrating habit of taking more onto yourself than proper, so I want to say that at the outset. I have been broken my entire life, and the one place of warmth and connection for me was you. I thought that I was taking you in as a favor to Dumbledore and to honor the memory of my childhood friend, but in reality I knew little of how much my connection with you would change everything. You have been a healing force in my life, but even connecting with you was not enough to save me from the demons that haunt me.

I know that we both play that the nightmares are normal and that my occlumency is a skill that I have rather than my last ditch attempt to save my sanity. Though I am the strongest Occlumens that I know and was able to withstand Voldemort in my day, I fear that I am beginning to lose control. The demons are too big for me to continue fighting, and I have felt my control slip as the months pass. So I was faced with the dilemma – on the nights where the flashbacks are so real that I can see the faces of those I saw tortured to death and feel the weight of your mother's dead body in my arms, I look around my potions classroom and know there are a thousand methods of oblivion. Anything seems better than holding her lifeless body, hearing you crying behind me, and smelling the fetid odor of death that clung to that scene. I cannot seem to free myself from the memories, but I also know that I cannot in good conscious enact the alternative and all that it would do to you, and so I fight. But I know that I cannot fight forever. So I began to research ways to cure myself, but nothing has lasted more than a month or two. So in my research through muggle means I came upon practices to help children that have experienced abuse, and I found myself wishing that I could give myself what I gave to you – structure, stability, love and attachment. Though still somewhat affected by your earlier trauma you clearly thrived under my care, and are able to form attachments with others. And then I harkened on the idea that perhaps I could have the same thing – and though changed, I could still be a part of your life. I am sorry for the manipulation that this plan entailed, but grant an old Slytherin one more scheme. And old is how I feel as well – older than Dumbledore.

I have never been fully honest with you before about some of these issues because I knew that you would fret and worry over what you cannot change. I have instructed George not to give you this letter unless it seemed clear that you had figured out that the potions accident was no accident, and you seemed reasonably happy in the idea of raising my younger self. If this is not the case, then please know that George has an antidote for the "accident" and I can be your father again within a quarter hour. If you feel that you would rather have your father than the snarky, obnoxious child that I was at nine then please do so without hesitation. I can pursue other options on how to heal myself, it is not your problem to solve.

However, if you are somewhat amenable to the idea of being my guardian, then know that I give you full permission to raise me how you see fit. I have seen you grow up, Harry, and though you can be irritating and irresponsible and you seriously need to rethink your habit of acting before you think, I also know that you are brave, loyal, kind, and honest. You will probably make a better father at twenty by bumbling through than most people would at a more appropriate age. But I am also loathe to burden your young adult life, so if you do decide to assume my guardianship I also want you to think seriously about hiring a caregiver for me. I have included a list of nannies, governesses and tutors that I personally approve of, as well as their strengths and weaknesses. You can have as much responsibility or as little as you are wanting. There are enough funds left in my estate to hire a full time nanny for me as well as paying for all of my upkeep and school fees when the time comes. You could even have me move back to Spinner's End with a nanny to raise me, with you visiting from time to time.

I debated a long time how old I should make myself, and I ended up at nine more for sentimental reasons than anything else. I couldn't stand the idea of being any younger than that, and that was the age that you came to me. I wanted to be young enough to attach to you, and I think raising you has shown me that children of that age can attach. Your mother was the first person I ever felt safe with, and after she passed you were the only other one that I've ever felt attached to. I'm hoping that if I can attach to you when I was an adult and you were a child that we could attach again with me as a child and you as the adult. Or, as much of an adult as you are able to be. I'm hoping that this attachment, coupled with not remembering any of the trauma that happened to me after 9 years old, that I will become a different adult than who I am now. I also made the choice to be of an age where I haven't development my obsession with your mother yet, I found myself hoping in my new life to make parental attachments first. I don't hope to be perfect – there are a few things about my adolescence that I should warn you about – but I hope to be better. And right now I feel desperate enough to try something even this radical in hopes for survival.

Please think carefully before you make any decisions. However, once you have made a decision then please act decisively. If you decide to raise me, then throw away the antidote and make the commitment. I will not have my younger self skulking around trying to find it because he's mad at you about something. And if you decide to have me back as your father, then act on it and don't look back.

As far as practical details go, here is my best advice:

1\. You can consult with my working notebook for details on the potions I've developed. McGonagall might try to take out any references to some of my less palatable thoughts if she gets her hands on it first, so be aware. Tell her I think you can handle the entirety of the journal if you choose to read it.

2\. When raising my younger self, make sure he knows that you care about him but also that he has to mind you. He's going to try very hard to wrest control from you, and you cannot let him do it. I think he's going to be far more challenging to raise than you were, but I think you are equal to the challenge.

3\. Do not be surprised by any behavior my younger self might exhibit – theft, lying, backtalk, running away – these were all survival mechanisms that helped me live through my childhood. Deal with them, certainly, but don't be shocked or dismayed by them.

4\. Don't let me start on potions too early – sometimes my innate skill outstripped my maturity level. Also, use monitoring spells at all times – don't trust me too much, especially at first.

5\. You seem to have a propensity for things like hugs – as I'm sure you know already, that was not something practiced in my home of origin. So it might take a while, but I definitely think it would help with attaching to me.

6\. When I go to school keep a sharp eye on who my friends are. Last time around I desperately sought acceptance and protection from my peers in Slytherin, which is what led me straight to Voldemort.

7\. Know that I am sad not to stand by you as your father on your wedding day. But know that I approve of the young woman that you have partnered with, and treat her each day like the miracle that she is. It may seem common to find a love and share a life with her, but when you are my age you realize it for the miracle that it is.

8\. Tell Ginny that she can be a mother to me. She always seems slightly nervous or edgy around me now, which could translate her into not asserting herself with me as a child. Tell her that I respect her mother as an excellent model for balancing motherly affection with clear rules.

9\. Tell George it is no use trying to find the formula I used to de-age myself, he is not going to be able to figure it out. He may try and use my younger self to help him, but I have taken measures to prevent its discovery. I have too much respect for the Headmistress to unleash a potion such as this one on the next generation of pranksters at Hogwarts.

10\. Tell George to get over himself and propose to Angelina already. Life is too short to not take opportunities like that when the arise, and his not attaching to people will not bring his brother back. He's definitely marrying up with her if she'll have him.

But foremost in my mind, I want to tell you to have a good life. Enjoy your friends, enjoy your work, and enjoy the peace that so many people have fought so desperately to give the next generation. And know how honored I was by the love and trust you placed with me and allowing me to be your father, imperfect though I was.

With love and respect,

Severus Snape

Harry sat back, holding the letter loosely in his hand. He now had the dilemma firmly before him – he would from now on either lose his father or his ward. And knowing the trust that his father had placed in him – trusting him enough to actually become a defenseless child under his care – he couldn't even fathom it.

While Harry was reading over the letter that his father had left for him, Severus had other plans. He wanted to use that If potion again.


	21. Chapter 21 - The If Reprisal

_AN: I hope everyone had a very nice break, I know that I did. It makes it hard to back to real life. :) I'm digging out of my busy holiday hole and am able to start reading, writing and posting again, so here goes! Thank you again to everyone for your kind reviews. It is very encouraging for an author to have good feedback._

* * *

 _While Harry was reading over the letter that his father had left for him, Severus had other plans. He wanted to use that If potion again._

"We're just going to give your Dad some time, mate," Ron told Severus as they ushered him away from where Harry sat with the letter.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked him. "That must have been very startling."

"It was," Severus agreed, madly trying to think of how he could get the potion from George.

"What happened in there?" Ron asked, curious. "How was it meeting your older self?"

"He whacked me," Severus admitted, blushing. "With a ruler."

"Not surprised, mate," Ron laughed a bit, though with an air of grim comradery. "That bloke did not entertain any misbehavior."

"Harry stopped it," Severus told them, not even realizing that he was using his first name and not "Mr. Potter." "He said it was his place to punish me, not Professor Snape's."

"He's always been a bit crazy brave," Ron acknowledged. "Not sure I could have been brave enough myself to stop the Professor at something he was determined to do. Especially with a ruler in his bloody hand."

"But it is his place," Hermione agreed. "Of course Harry would stop it. I mean, I suppose it is odd having your older self mad at your younger self and try and discipline him . . ."

"Not as strange as you might guess," George smothered a smirk. "I have to give my inner child a good whack every once in a while or I never get any paperwork done."

"It wasn't really him, either," Hermione reminded the young Severus. "Just how you and Harry imagine him."

"Well, it's a bit more than that . . ." George objected.

"He would have whacked Severus!" Ron protested. "Sounds dead accurate to me."

"Why did you develop that potion?" Severus asked George. "Doesn't seem like something someone would buy."

"We are not sure if it will ever really financially viable," George agreed cheerfully. "Part of the problem is needing to have the spell done by someone else. Most of the time, people like privacy when entertaining their ifs."

"What happens without the spell?" Severus asked.

"Any thought that comes to your mind can become part of the scenario," George explained. "The spell performed binds it to one scenario. We had people trying to see how a love interest could work out but ended up in front of their History of Magic class without their trousers."

"Harry would be face to face with Voldemort himself!" Hermione gasped. "George, that was quite a risk."

"No risk when there's someone that knows what they're doing," George assured them. "But that's why we're not sure that it will be exactly a commercial success."

But George saw the look in the youngster's eye, and the part of him that operated on instinct made sure that he saw him put the vial in his unprotected outer pocket. And when he felt the small, quick hand retrieve that vial with hardly disturbing the pocket around it, he smiled to himself. This wasn't part of the plan that he had wrought with the Professor, and in fact he thought it likely the old man would disapprove. But he had a sense of mischief that was rarely wrong – and he wanted to see where that If potion would take his young protégé.

"Back again?" Professor Snape snarled at the youngster. "And without Harry? Hmm, where did I put that ruler?"

"No!" Severus protested, dancing out of the man's reach.

"The cheek! The temerity!" Professor Snape growled. "I cannot believe that I was ever this naughty! Now get over here and receive your due. There's nobody to save you this time."

"You can't whack me," Severus replied, though he darted behind the large table between them.

"And why not?" Professor Snape drawled, the ruler flying through the air and smacking firmly into his hand. "Seems to me that you are here without permission."

"Harry told you not to!" Severus objected.

"He is not here to stop me," Professor Snape growled.

"But you respect him!" Severus suddenly realized. "I saw how you respected his wishes the last time you spanked me! He said it was his place!"

"It is not part of your framework to believe an adult would be reasonable," Professor Snape told him with menace. "I believe your framework has adults, and in particular male father figures, as horrible and abusive. Perhaps I should get the strap."

"I've heard the bloody stories!" Severus objected, realizing. "Harry told me! He told me how you helped him use silverware when you realized that he couldn't, I heard how he was shocked and relieved to get spanked with your hand for breaking something in your lab, and I know that the only time you took a strap to him was when he was sixteen and due to highly illegal and dangerous activity!"

"And this isn't illegal?" Snape countered. "Nicking a potion that you were just warned could be dangerous?"

"I'm only nine," Severus answered, feeling relieved upon his realization. "And I will be punished, but it won't be by you."

"Then tell him that if he doesn't give you at least ten with a ruler for this escapade that he will get double the next time he wants to see me," Snape sniffed, placing the ruler with menace on the table. "Now, my young Severus, why are you here?"

"I have to know what to do," Severus answered, feeling a bit exposed by the obvious lack of device or stratagem. He really just wanted to talk honestly with his older self. "I don't know if I should try to remain a kid or go back to being an adult. I thought you were the best person to help me with that."

"I see," the Professor nodded. "The first words of sense I have heard you speak."

"You know what the situation is," Severus told him. "Can you help me?"

"Now that we have established that your backside is temporarily safe from my ruler," Snape acknowledged. "Come over and sit down and we shall chat."

Severus cautiously obeyed, still watching his older self carefully, and found himself seated in a worn, overstuffed chair beside the fire, a hot cup of tea steaming beside him. It felt remarkably normal and almost . . . cozy.

"From threats to being served tea," Severus smirked. "I am not sure what to make of you."

"And that has been your problem all along," Professor Snape told him, sipping on his own tea. "What to make of me. You have been too much protected from me, I think."

"I have been able to piece together quite a bit," he told the Professor, quickly adding sugar to his teacup before he would be told to stop.

"Enough sugar," Snape growled. "And obviously you have pieced together quite a bit."

"You were unhappy," Severus told him, mixing his tea. "I heard the adults talking about it. And, if you were the grown up version of who I was before I met Mr. Potter, then I think you would have been."

"There is much you do not know," Snape sighed. "But you were right. We had won the war, I had a son that I loved and was proud of, but I still could not cope with what the war and my childhood had made of me. I was desperate."

"Desperate enough to make yourself into me."

"You know I gave a great deal of thought on how this would impact Harry," the Professor admitted, sipping his tea again. "But I never really gave much thought for what it would be like for you. I really just thought of, well, of relief from the pain. I thought if I gave you what you needed – really needed, not just new clothes and food – I thought, well, that you would realize the gift I've given you."

"I think I'm happy with it," Severus answered. "But, I mean, it's not all easy."

"It never is," the Professor nodded. "Harry isn't perfect."

"But can he do it?" Severus pressed. "Can I trust him?"

"Silly boy," Professor Snape chided. "You listen to me carefully now, and remember what I say. I am the legendary Professor Snape, who thinks of all options and conclusions. I do not make decisions on a whim, but with careful considerations of all available choices. I would never have done it this way if I didn't think it would make you happy in the long run."

"So you trust him?"

"I do," the Professor responded gravely. "I raised him. And yes, he was thoughtless and naughty and entirely too brave for his own good. But I also have never known someone with a more loyal and loving heart, and in the end that is what saved him."

"Are you sure?" he pressed.

"You know I am," Snape replied. "And you know it too. Now it is time for me to ask you a question: What is making you hesitate to embrace him as your father? Why do you hold back and test him?"

"He's not my dad," Severus replied darkly.

"From now on he is," Snape told him. "I have given him that position over you, and I expect you to realize what a privilege it is and be suitably grateful."

"I can't call him that."

"You forget that I know you as well," Snape replied. "I know what your secret heart desires, and I know how much that scares you. You feel that he's not your dad now, but you wish him to be. You wish he was your father as I was a father to him."

Snape paled, setting down his tea and looking away. He had never felt so known before, and it felt very hard even though he knew this was a projection of his own mind. He forced himself not to react to protect himself, but remain focused on the question that made him want to come here in the first place. "Does he want me?" he asked quietly.

"And that is what you truly fear," the Professor agreed. "You know he's trustworthy and you know he's kind. What you fear is that he doesn't want you – a straggly, ugly, awkward boy who can't even read."

Instead of defending himself, Severus began blinking the tears that came suddenly to his eyes. It was the truth.

"Nobody has really wanted me before," Severus whispered.

"You are again wrong," Snape told him carefully. "You are being too stubborn to see what is right in front of you. Harry wants you, Hermione wants you, Ginny wants you, and even that incorrigible Ron wants you. Did you see George? Molly? You have to be stupid not to see it."

"See what?"

"You have a whole host of people lining up to be your family," Professor Snape told him. "But still you dwell on what you bring."

"What I bring?" Severus asked blankly.

Suddenly, there was a loud, dragging thud outside of the door to the room they sat in. Severus had not been aware of the door or even the wall before that sound, but suddenly everything in the room shook.

"There he is, right on time," Snape acknowledged, sipping his tea again. "You are so predictable, young Severus."

"Who's here?" he squeaked in fear, although he knew. Only one thing made that sound.

"You know perfectly well," Professor Snape growled. "Don't try my patience. You also know what he wants, don't you?"

"Yes," Severus answered, eyes darting around the room in fear. Where could he hide?

"If only you had asked George to cast the spell that kept your bad imaginings out of your head," Snape told him in a condescending way. "Oh yes, too impatient. Had to do what you thought best."

"What do I do now?"

"I don't know if there's anything you can do," Snape replied calmly. "Did you have a word to end it last time?"

"Fred!" Severus yelled with passion. "Fred, Fred, Fred!"

Nothing happened, and the thud-drag sound now reflected a pounding on the door.

"Apparently the word was linked to the spell George did," Snape told him without emotion. "Pity."

"He's going to kill me!" Severus breathed in abject fear.

"Never killed you before," the Professor chided. "Don't be dramatic. Best face him, he gets worse if you hide. We both know that."

"He . . . he . . ."

"I know, I know," the Professor told him impatiently. "Face him and take your medicine."

"I can't!" Severus protested. "Please, hide me!"

"You've hidden too much," Snape told him, as the door crashed open with a loud, crunching bang.

Severus, in full panic, dove under the table in fear. Rough hands, smelling of cigarettes and cheap gin, easily grabbed him by his arms and pulled him from beneath the table.

"Help me!" he called to the Professor, but saw that the chair that once held him was now empty. In shock, he was alone in the room with nobody but his Father.


	22. Chapter 22 - Opening the Door

_AN: Just FYI, we are nearing the end of this particular story, we have a few chapters to go. I'm kicking around the idea of a sequel, but am not sure. What do people think? What would be a compelling topic or situation for a sequel?_

* * *

"What's with the kid?" Ron asked, coming back in the room and noticing Severus curled up on the sofa, apparently asleep. "Is he tired or something?"

"No, I don't believe so," George answered cheerfully. "I believe he took advantage of having a few moments to himself."

"What does that mean?" Hermione answered, narrowing her eyes at George.

"It means the little light fingers found my If potion," he answered, his eyes twinkling. "And he decided to use it."

"But that was without your spell," Hermione answered.

"Yes, it was," George answered. "Very foolish, that."

"What can happen to him?" Ron asked.

"Usually people start out how they intended, but then drift into an area where any anxiety they have can become manifest."

"But for Severus that could be . . ."

"Tobias," Hermione finished for him. "I'm going to get Harry. You two figure out how to fix it."

"The potion should wear off soon," George suggested helpfully to Ron. "Unless, oh dear, it looks like he drank the whole thing. I guess he's in for a good half hour then."

"He can't have a half hour of his worse imaginings!" Ron thundered. "Tobias will kill him!"

"Just hurt him," George corrected. "Remember, there is pain but no actual damage."

"Pain can cause damage!" Ron protested. "He's just getting comfortable with us! Now use that word that ends it."

"Can't use the word, I didn't cast a spell when he took the potion," George explained. "That's part of the spell."

"Then what can we do?" Ron demanded. "There must be something!"

"Send me in!" Harry demanded, throwing open the door and rushing to George. "Send me in with him now or by Merlin I'll . . ."

"Calm down, dear Harry," George chided, completely unafraid. "It seems as though you are a little agitated."

"I took down Voldemort!" Harry thundered. "Do you really want to cross me? Now get me in his head!"

"Tsk, tsk, such manners," George replied. "Threats don't work on me. It tempts me to not tell you that it's relatively easy to join your son in his imaginings."

Harry ignored the use of the word "son" and pressed, "Then get me the bloody hell inside his vision then!"

"Are you worried about him then?"

"You know what that bastard did to the boy," Harry growled, though his voice sounded strangely vulnerable. "I won't let it happen again."

"I will give you the potion and do the spell," George nodded, suddenly serious. "But there will be some sort of barrier that he needs to let you into in order for you to get into his imaginings. His occlumency isn't very strong yet, so hopefully it won't be too hard to do. But don't try to go in without his permission, it would be very violating to him. Worse than anything that could be happening to him."

"And once I'm in can I use the word 'Fred?'" Harry asked.

"Only for you," George answered. "Because I didn't do the spell for him, he needs to stay there until the potion wears off. Unfortunately, he too, the entire vial so it's a half hour. Also, I can tie you to Severus but I can't tie you to a scenario. Anything he dreams up can happen to you with very little if any input from you. The scaffolding is all Severus."

"Give me the full dose then," Harry told him, nodding. "I'll be alright, and even if it's something awful I'd rather be with him. When he's worn off I'll use the word to get out."

"Will do," George answered, saluting and then producing a bottle of the potion. "Drink up, young Harry."

Harry obeyed instantly, and then heard George setting the spell as he sank down into the sofa. He focused on Severus, and getting there as soon as possible. He found himself outside of a dingy house, one that it took him a few minutes to realize was a nightmare version of Spinner's end. The house looked disproportionally large and dark, with peeling paint and an oppressive smudge of smoke everywhere. Realizing that this was his childhood home from young Severus' point of view, he approached the door. Finding it locked, he began by knocking, and then moving to pounding on the door.

Severus, in the meantime, was trying to keep from completely panicking. He felt his father roughly yank him out from under the table, and throw him across the room. Luckily, he landed on the couch, and righted himself immediately, looking for an escape.

"Good for nothing!" he heard his father drunkenly slur. "Ought to teach him a lesson! A proper hiding!"

Severus gulped, knowing what this often meant, and looked around for anything that could help him. But the room became just how he remembered it – shabby, cramped, and completely devoid of help. He saw the dark blur of an outline of his father stumble a bit, and then he heard the sickening sound of him removing his belt. The part of his brain fighting complete panic intensified. Would it be better to fight back and get hit in the face? Or just realize the inevitable and give his father his back, protecting his more tender front?

Suddenly, there was a knocking at the door, strong and sure. Severus looked up in surprise, wondering who could possibly interrupt this scenario.

"Severus, it's me, Harry," he heard the very welcomed voice of his guardian. "Let me in so I can help you."

"He's too big!" Severus protested, nearly crying. "I can't!"

"I can't get the door open without you," Harry told him. "Please, concentrate on wanting me in the room with you."

"I don't want you to see this," Severus answered, shame staining his cheeks. He desperately wanted Harry with him to protect him, but couldn't stand the thought of his guardian seeing who Tobias really was. He had spent too much of his childhood hiding him.

"Please, Severus, I don't care about that," Harry answered. "I just want you to be safe."

"Enough!" the drunken blob in the room with him commanded Severus. "Take your medicine!"

A searing crack of leather against a young, frail back was heard, stilling the room with its brutality. Harry gasped aloud when he realized what he'd heard.

"Let me in!" he commanded Severus. "Please, Severus, let me in before he can hurt you any more!"

"Please, stop," Severus begged, his voice vulnerable and broken.

"If I can't come in, then wish for Professor Snape," Harry told the young man. "Please, Severus."

There was another crack, and Harry clutched his wand in frustration. It took everything he had not to try blasting the door down with every ounce of magic he possessed. Would the fool not let him in? Then, he suddenly realized he heard his father's voice, and desperately wished that this projection of Professor Snape could be whom he knew him to be.

"I see you're in a bit of trouble, young Severus," Professor Snape observed with snarky contempt. "I see you are not so cocky when you're on the receiving end of a strap."

"Make it stop!" he begged the Professor.

"I can't do that," the Professor answered, though without the usual sarcasm and with just a note of sadness. "I've tried to for years, it doesn't work."

"What does?" Severus asked, dodging the next blow that landed on the couch.

"Hold still!" the drunken Tobias ordered. "Or ya get double!"

"Best hold still," Snape observed. "Unless you want to let Harry in. I think double would be quite brutal. But do you think this lout could actually do the multiplication in his head?"

"I can't let him in!" Severus insisted. "I can't let him see this!"

"He already knows," Snape sighed. "You need to stop protecting yourself from him. He knows all this, and with a flick of his wand that strap could become a feather."

"Owww!" Severus howled as the next stroke landed with brutal accuracy, catching him full across his shoulders. "I can't take this!"

"You have before, too many times to count," Snape told him. "Or perhaps it's different now?"

"It doesn't have to be this way!" Severus insisted.

"The shame, the secrecy, the pain," Snape agreed. "You're right; it doesn't have to be this way. But in order to change it, you need to let Harry in. He won't come in unless he's allowed to by you. Will you do it?"

Another blow landed, and Snape folded his arms in disgust. "You have a choice between a brutal lout set on beating you and a loving father that I have went through great lengths to aquire for you. You great idiot! For once in your miserable life will you make the choice that will actually make you happy!"

"Harry, come in," Severus whispered, bracing himself for another blow. But the blow never came, instead there was a flash and Tobias' body was frozen mid-swing. Severus peeked up, realizing it had been inches from catching him savagely across the kidneys.

"Severus!" Harry breathed, gathering the youngster up into his arms. He felt the small body trembling with fear and pain and just held him close. Severus wrapped his legs around Harry's waist and clung to his guardian as if his life depended on it. Harry's heart jumped at the closeness he felt with the boy, and cried out in relief, "You're safe! Oh my boy, I was so worried! Are you okay?"

"The marks on him hurt, but the damage is only in his head," Professor Snape told them. "Such emotional display over a few strokes with the strap! I've administered worse myself."

"And you held me afterwards," Harry countered, looking up to his father with a twinkle in his eye. "I learned from the best."

"Stuff and nonsense," he replied, though Harry could see he was relieved.

"Why couldn't you help him?" he asked his father. "That's why I told him to imagine you."

"I am helpless against him," Snape answered sadly, gesturing to the frozen man wielding the strap. Harry could never remember seeing the normally self-assured man look this defeated. "I always have been. Perhaps if I was less helpless I wouldn't have needed to go back to this age. However, in the end, we needed you. Thank you, Harry."

"I can't get you home right now, Severus," Harry told him, his hand holding the boy's head close to his shoulder. "We have to wait for the potion to wear off. But I'm here with you now, so I'll keep you safe."

"You can't keep me safe from everything," Severus argued, though did not lessen his hold on his guardian.

"I'll do my best," Harry assured him.

"He needs some salve," a feminine voice whispered from the corner, and Harry realized that Professor Snape had been replaced by a thin, wan woman with greasy lanks of dark hair. With surprise, he realized that this must be Severus' mum. Her eyes looked like blank smudges on a pale oval of a face. He felt Severus' thin body tense but make no move to turn and face the woman.

"I have some, somewhere," she continued in a soft, distracted voice that felt completely empty of emotion. "I have some for when this happens. I made some, when he wasn't looking. Where is it?"

"He'll be fine," Harry answered her. "Would you like to see your son?"

"My son," she laughed, her laugh a bitter scrape against the oppressive room. "My son. Not anything he should have been, and too much like his father and too much like my father."

"I tried, mum," Severus whispered into Harry's shoulder, his voice despairing. "I don't know how to get him to stop."

"He'll stop when you're good," she answered, her voice brittle. "And when I'm good enough. We need to learn his ways. But I'm a good mother, I'll find the salve."

"Rubbish," Harry replied firmly, patting Severus a bit to assure him. "It has nothing to do with either you or Severus. No good father would ever do that to his son, or to you." Harry saw the shadows of bruises on the mother's face as well, and felt sickened. "You deserve better, and so does your son."

"But there is nowhere else," she protested without energy. "My parents will not have me back, nor the mudblood I spawned. I deserve it, I deserve this hell."

"I'm going to take him now, and raise him, and teach him magic," Harry told her firmly, realizing that logic would not work. "You don't have to worry about him anymore."

"You would care for him?" she asked, mystified, but with a sliver of the type of hope born from desperation. "Nobody wants him, he's too ugly and too bad."

"Of course I want him," Harry answered her. "He is an impressive young man, and I'd be proud to be his father."

"Then take him away from this place," she told Harry, tears coming to her eyes. "Take him away from this place of tears and pain. If you can do better by him, then take him. Don't send him back here, I beg you."

"I will," Harry told her. "He will never need to come back here."

Harry watched as the mum faded away, and wondered where Severus was going to take him next. He still held the boy firmly, wondering how he could hardly weigh anything in this place.

And then, it was empty. Harry realized that the boy was in his own home at Grimmauld place, and he saw himself and his friends around the table. He sat down silently in the corner, shifting Severus' weight to his lap, not feeling that this place was dangerous. Severus remained glued to Harry's shoulder, refusing to look at what the room held, though his body became whipcord-tense.

"I know you can't really want him," Hermione told the dream-Harry. "But you're obligated to do it, you know."

"I will suffer through raising him," Ginny sighed. "How could your father have demanded you do this? Especially realizing that we are marrying soon? Not many young women my age have a built in pre-teen son when they're barely an adult themselves."

"Just suffer until we can be shod of him when Hogwarts starts," dream-Harry sighed. "I owe it to my father to do it, I would feel too guilty to make him go back. Besides, now I don't have to worry about the old man controlling me any more; I'm free to do my thing."

"As free as you can be raising a brat," Ron chimed in.

"I think I'll get a nanny," dream-Harry mused. "I don't really want to be bothered with it at all. Although I don't really want to spend the money on it; maybe a cheap nanny?"

"And he's so . . . not like a child," Ginny continued. "I mean if he were cute and smart I could see loving him, but he's just so . . ."

"Repulsive?" Hermione chimed in. "Greasy? Stupid! I swear, he's so hard to teach I might as well give up."

"And remember when mum took away the wine because of him?" Ron countered. "Stupid git! I swear when I get a chance, he's going to know my opinions of his skinny, disrespectful self."

"Shut it," the real Harry ordered to the figures at the table, his voice authoritative. "At least get it right if you're going to play-act us."

The figures froze then, and Harry turned to the child on his lap, gently trying to make eye contact that Severus stubbornly refused by pressing his face even more firmly into Harry's shoulder. "Is that really what you're afraid of?" he asked softly. "You have to know that's not true."

"Isn't it?" Severus sniffed, feeling all of the sarcasm and dignity gone from his body. He was nothing but a sniveling toddler!

"Of course not," he replied impatiently. "Not true for any of us. We love you."

"How could you love me?" he sniffed, hiding his face. "I'm not lovable."

"Call for Professor Snape," Harry told him. "We have some talking to do, and I hope this is the last time to ever use this blasted potion."


	23. Chapter 23 - Fatherhood

"So I see you rescued the young miscreant," Professor Snape observed as he appeared in the room. "And still hugging him, I see."

"I know you're not really him," Harry acknowledged, though his heart wrenched a bit at the acknowledgement. Seeing the image of his father like this brought into cruel relief how much he missed the man. "But I thought that it might be useful to have a conversation with the three of us going forward. I realize that someone needs to be the parent here, and I'm realizing that that person is going to need to be me."

"Don't get too above yourself, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape growled, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Well, that's where you put me," Harry answered back firmly. Knowing this was a projection of Severus' ideas about Snape made it easier to take control of the situation. "So let's talk about what this is going to look like for me to raise Severus."

"Raising Cain is more like it," Professor Snape replied, a note of resignation in his sarcasm. "He is going to be quite the handful, Harry. I might advise against attempting it."

"First of all, I want it to be clear that I am very happy to raise him," Harry told them both. "It has been a challenging concept to wrap my head around, but I am there now."

"You could always re-age me," Severus sniffed. "You could have your father back."

"And lose my ward," Harry told him. "I think I'm at the place that I lose either way."

"You love him more," Severus countered, his head still buried in Harry's shoulder.

"I've known him longer," Harry answered. "But look, this is what he wanted for us. For both of us. Here, let me see your face."

"I cried," Severus whispered as he left the safety of Harry's shoulder but still remained safely ensconced on his lap.

"Of course you did," Harry told him, producing a handkerchief for him. "I probably would have cried too. That was scary and it hurt a lot. Do you need a healing spell?"

"This is not real life," Professor Snape answered with exasperation. "It didn't hurt as soon as he forgot that it was supposed to."

"Is that true?" Harry asked his ward, who nodded in surprise, looking at his elder counterpart with suspicion.

"Do you not listen when instructions are given?" the Professor sighed.

"Probably not enough," Harry answered with a grin. "I was worried about Severus."

"As it should be," Snape said with a rare approving nod. "I am glad that Severus has found a father in you."

"And you trust me to raise him?" Harry asked.

"Silly Gryffindor," Snape smirked. "If I didn't trust you to raise him, would I have set it up for you to do so?"

"It's still good to have your blessing," Harry smiled at him. In some ways, knowing that this scaffolding of Professor Snape was actually Severus' mind, it felt good to get that blessing.

"You have it," Severus told him. "But you still need to whack him."

"What?" Harry asked, astonished. Whatever he expected his father to say, this wasn't it.

"Consistency," Snape quipped. "The lad needs structure, responsibility and discipline. I told him that if you didn't use the ruler on him that I would use it on you."

"I'm not scared of you," Harry told him, still smiling a bit at the threat. "But I do see your point. Still, it seems a little cruel given what just happened to him."

"What just happened to him with Tobias was a horrifying consequence to his disobedience, theft, and disrespect," Snape told him. "You need to discipline him so it doesn't happen again."

"I see," Harry nodded, trying to see if this was actually what Severus wanted or what he thought his older self would have wanted. Though, it seemed solid advice either way. "I think that makes sense. Do you concur, Severus?"

"I deserve it," Severus whispered, looking away. "That . . . with my dad . . . that was my fault."

"You were naughty in stealing the potion," Harry told him. "And had a reckless disregard for your safety, certainly. But what that man did to you - in real life as well as in here - is not right. It should be extremely difficult for you to earn the strap from a reasonable father at your age, and even if you did it should never be applied in such a brutal manner."

"I gave you the strap," Professor Snape mused. "You did not seem particularly happy about it at the time."

"And I was sixteen," Harry countered. "And it was on my backside, not my back. I also believe that I didn't have any lasting marks either; I'm sure what I heard on Severus would have left welts for days."

"I'm pretty bad," Severus said quietly. "I would think it would be easier to get rid of me."

"Sometimes you are naughty," Harry grinned at him. "I think I've told you enough stories so that you know that I was too. And Professor Snape still loved me. Just as I do you."

"You do?" Severus asked with a glimpse of hope, and then his eyes shuttered in doubt.

"I do," Harry told him. "It's okay if you don't believe me yet."

"I'm glad that worked," Snape said, self-satisfied.

"What worked?" Severus said, his eyes turning to his older self.

"Don't get cheeky with me, young man," Snape growled at him. "You know very well what I meant. If my goal was for you to have a loving father and a normal childhood, then you now have it. Now all you have to do is not screw it up."

"What do you mean?" Severus asked, offended.

"I mean he's 'Dad' from now on, not 'Mr. Potter,'" Professor Snape told him firmly. "And behave yourself too, but when you're naughty you apologize and comply with the punishment he assigns. And that woman he's going to marry becomes your mother too, and you are to be kind to her and call her 'mum.'"

"Why is she so shy of me?" Severus asked, not wanting to admit that a part of him really wanted what Professor Snape was directing.

"Professor Snape was hard on her in school; well, hard on all of us really," Harry explained. "Especially when he had to act the double agent the year he was headmaster at the school and supposedly under Voldemort."

"I helped the resistance, but many were unaware," Professor Snape explained. "I don't believe she ever really forgot."

"She'll come around," Harry assured him. "She likes you very much. As you get settled in more, it will feel more normal."

"And as for you," Professor Snape continued with his lecturing tone. "You are not to mollycoddle him, spoil him, or any of the other things you are apt to do. Bedtimes will be strictly enforced, and misbehavior will be promptly and sternly punished. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Harry nodded. "But you also have to know that I am me, and not you."

"A good father hopes for his son to perform better than himself," Snape gruffly explained. "I would hope that extends to parenting."

"You were a good father," Harry assured him, knowing that Severus needed to hear it. "You rescued me, took me when nobody else could, taught me magic, and loved me. I'm not sure what it would have been like without you."

"I believe you would have been a first-rate prankster if raised by the Weasleys," Snape sniffed. "But perhaps we saved each other in a way. I am very grateful for what you are doing with my younger self, Harry."

"I am glad to do it," Harry nodded back. "I've grown quite fond of Severus."

"He's not going to believe you," Professor Snape told Harry. "He has no reason to."

"I know," Harry answered easily. "And I believe it's my job to give him that reason."

 _"_ _Come in, Harry," Professor Snape directed, but in a softer voice than Harry expected._

 _"_ _You wanted to see me, sir?" Harry asked politely, searching for signs on his guardian's face that his latest escapade had been discovered._

 _"_ _Yes, there's something I needed to discuss with you," the Professor invited. "Come in, I've called for tea."_

 _"_ _I was working on my lessons," Harry told him innocently._

 _"_ _It seems a late hour for that," Professor Snape observed, looking at his ward a little more closely. "And odd you would volunteer that information. What were you doing?"_

 _"_ _Nothing!" Harry insisted, squirming._

 _With a few more moments of intense scrutiny, Professor Snape held out his hand. "Give it to me now to avoid further penalty."_

 _With a sigh, Harry handed over the small object._

 _"_ _From where did this come?" he asked the boy severely._

 _"_ _Fred Weasley just sent this to me by owl," Harry explained. "I don't think it's really bad, he just wrote to me not to show you."_

 _"_ _What does it do?" the Professor asked, examining the small object._

 _"_ _It is supposed to light up red when your parent is close," Harry explained, gesturing to the demure, greyish-blue ball. "Fred wanted to see if it would work on you, because, well, you're not really my parent."_

 _"_ _I see," Snape nodded, placing the ball in his pocket. "I will return it to the Weasley parents. I assume it is a Zonko's product? Probably designed to help miscreants escape parental detection?"_

 _"_ _I think so," Harry blushed, looking away. "I guess it won't work for me."_

 _"_ _Well, that's actually something I wish to discuss," Snape told him, trying to focus away from the Weasley's misbehavior. "You know you are going to Hogwarts in the fall."_

 _"_ _Yes," Harry answered, looking suspicious. Since the week before he had been stewing on a comment made by Fred that when he went to Hogwarts he would be free of his guardian, and Harry found that comment rankled. First, it was because Fred and George could hardly believe that he actually liked Professor Snape as a guardian, and they felt somewhat limited by Harry being afraid to cross the man. And secondly, he didn't really like the idea of being freed from the guardian he had grown to depend on so much._

 _"_ _I thought it might be a good time to think about the guardianship."_

 _"_ _I knew it!" Harry yelled, clenching his fists in frustration. "You'd rather not be bothered with me any more!"_

 _"_ _Harry . . ." Snape echoed, at a loss for words. Harry's fears could not be further from the truth._

 _"_ _You'll be embarrassed by me," Harry confirmed, hot tears forming in his eyes. "You want to get rid of me! Now that I'm of age to go to school your responsibilities have been fulfilled, and you're free."_

 _"_ _You are quite mistaken . . ." Snape tried to interrupt._

 _"_ _I know you can't really love me," Harry declared, trying hard not to break down and sob altogether. "But I thought . . . I thought maybe you tolerated me a bit . . ."_

 _"_ _That is quite enough!" Professor Snape barked. "One more self-pitying declaration and you go straight over my knee. Do you understand?"_

 _"_ _Yes, sir," Harry answered miserably._

 _"_ _Listen to me carefully, as I find it very disrespectful to not be heard the first time," Snape told him in a severe voice. "What I was proposing was to end the guardianship with adoption."_

 _"_ _You want to adopt someone?" Harry asked, sniffing._

 _"_ _I want to adopt you, you nitwit," Professor Snape told him. "If you had listened to me instead of jumping to very ridiculous conclusions you would have realized that."_

 _"_ _You . . . what?" Harry asked, blankly._

 _"_ _I have grown quite fond of you and would like to make our relationship permanent," Snape told him, his voice austere. "I believe it would be convenient to settle the legalities before you begin at Hogwarts."_

 _"_ _But . . . you like me?" Harry asked._

 _"_ _I would think that would be obvious," Snape told him, his voice somewhat softer. It would have been just as hard for him to believe it at Harry's age as well, so he tried for patience. "Do you think I have undertaken the raising of you just for a favor for Dumbledore? A favor would have bought you being in my care for a month, maybe, until suitable other arrangements could be made. But seeing as it has been nearly two years, it was clearly because I wanted you here."_

 _"_ _Really?" Harry asked, starting to believe his guardian._

 _"_ _Of course," Snape answered. "And you are lucky that I'm not taking it as cheek that you don't believe what I tell you outright."_

 _"_ _I believe you!" Harry assured him, nearly laughing. "It's just so hard to believe . . ."_

 _"_ _But is this what you want, Harry?" Snape asked him seriously. "If you'd rather remain as my ward that is perfectly acceptable."_

 _"_ _Of course I want it!" Harry replied, surprised. "It's what I've been wishing for since, well, since nearly the beginning."_

 _"_ _Typically when a child is adopted he or she takes on their parent's name," Snape told him. "I think because of your history and what you mean to the wizarding world, it would be better not to, do you agree?"_

 _"_ _Will you be sad to not pass on your name?" Harry asked, wondering._

 _"_ _That name is from my muggle father," Snape told him. "I perfectly happy to not be passing it on."_

 _"_ _But I want something from you," Harry insisted. "Maybe a middle name?"_

 _"_ _We can add a middle name from my family to your middle names if it makes you happy," Snape nodded, touched that the boy would think of it. "But I think that I will pass on to you things that are much more important than a name. I have taught you magic and will continue to do so. I see that as much more valuable than a name."_

 _"_ _Does it mean I call you Dad?" Harry asked, a little hesitant. "I mean, I'm okay if you'd rather not . . ."_

 _"_ _I believe that is the custom," Professor Snape nodded. "'Dad' is fine with me, though in formal settings you may prefer to say, 'Father.' But Harry, adoption means in the eyes of the law you are my son just as if you'd been born to me. Are you sure that's what you would like?"_

 _"_ _As sure as I am of anything," Harry answered firmly. Professor Snape had to appreciate the little bit of a curl to his lip when he got stubborn like this, he knew that it was an unconscious imitation of what he did._

 _"_ _Alright, Harry James Potter," Snape nodded. "I will file the paperwork tomorrow."_

 _"_ _Harry James Severus Potter," Harry corrected him, meeting his eyes firmly. "It has a nice ring to it."_

 _"_ _It sounds pretentious to have so many middle names," Snape told him, but with a smirky tone that Harry knew meant that he approved. "But I will give you your way. Harry James Severus Potter it is."_

 _Unnoticed by any human, deep within the recesses of a dark pocket a small ball shifted from a grayish blue to a bright red._


	24. Chapter 24 - Punching George

_AN: Barring some nonsensical and un-planned for whim of the muse, next chapter will be the conclusion to this story. :)_

* * *

Hermione, Ron, Ginny and George were watching the inert body of the nine-year-old, wondering what was becoming of him. He had had a few minutes of twitching and moaning, as if in a bad dream, though that settled.

"I am going to bloody kill you if he's hurt," Ginny threatened her brother, her teeth clenched. "Look at him, so helpless. You gormless fool!"

"Look, he's the one that nicked it!" George insisted.

"You let him," she leveled at him. "I know you, George Weasley. Nobody can steal from you without your permission."

"Well, maybe the two of them needed it," George told her, smiling impishly.

"It's an awful risk," Ron told them, eyeing the inert body of his best friend as well.

"They can't get into real mischief, Ronnykins," George assured him. "And wasn't it the troll that brought you and your beloved wife together? A bit of danger can seal a bond."

"Bloody kill you," Ginny glared at him. "You should have talked with us, made a plan. You just going off and luring the child . . ."

"No lure necessary," George held up his hand. "He has a mind of his own, that one."

"And with the extendable ears as well!" Ginny spat, a perfect imitation of her mother in high dudgeon. "That boy is going to go over Harry's knee for this and don't think I'm not wanting to tell Mum to do the same to you!"

"She hasn't taken the spoon to me in years," George chuckled, completely non-stressed by his sister's attack. "Looks like it worked well on you as well, Severus' new Mum."

Ginny, taken aback, looked at the young man again. Was George right in that some peril might help them define relationships?

"Last time was Dad, actually," George reminisced. "And it was the strap, too. I blame Professor Snape myself, if he hadn't been giving it to Harry already . . ."

"You deserved it and you know it," Ginny snapped, not willing to acknowledge George being right about anything. "And watch your back. If this has anything but the best outcomes, you know you can't defend against my bat-boogey hex."

"That's a real threat, that," George acknowledged. "I will hope for the best outcome, then, my dear."

"Why would you do this?" Hermione asked, perplexed. "I used to write you off as an eccentric prankster that showed some brilliance in potions – but in our dealings with Severus you seem to almost know what you're doing. It's uncanny."

"Please allow an old prankster to grow up a bit," George answered her, his smile somewhat wan. He looked away from the group towards the window – and seemed almost wistful. "After the war, well, you would know what that was like. All of us broken in our own ways."

"When did you and Professor Snape start working together?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Right after the war," George admitted. "He wanted to transition out of teaching, said he wanted to make it as a potion creator. He earned a pretty knut too – he was easily getting close to retirement. But there was also something else."

"What?" Ron asked, though he knew.

"We had both lost so much," George said, his eyes misting a bit as he stared at that window. "He helped me sometimes when the memories, when the dreams got so real . . ."

"He developed potions to help his PTSD," Hermione nodded. "And it sounds like he shared."

"But he wouldn't share the real cure," George softly told them. "I knew what he was working on – for Merlin's sakes I helped him procure the ingredients! But that man was sly, as slick as a snake. Too much subterfuge for me to guess."

"The letter said to tell you not to bother to re-make the potion he used to change his age," Hermione told George.

"The man bloody knew how to cover his tracks," George admitted softly. "He told me, well, he told me that it would do me no good. That I had the love of many others to help, that I was young and my brain could heal. That I could grieve and move on – where he was irreparably stuck. He told me to treasure the good memories I had, and to figure out how to deal with the pain of my brother's death. The bloody imperious bastard!"

"To de-age you to do any sort of good would have to be as an infant," Ron told him. "You'd have to go back before you'd spent your childhood as Fred's better half."

"Worth it," George said, his voice hollow. "How can I have a proper life without him?"

"Oh George," Ginny whispered, and found herself hugging her much taller brother. She had not hugged him like this in years – probably since they grieved together in that blackened out hall after the battle of Hogwarts.

"Ginny," he croaked, letting her pull him into a hug and letting the tears slip down his face. "It should have been me to go. Why wasn't it me?"

"Because we still need you here," Ginny told him. "Our lives would be far too serious without you. Please, George, you need to promise not to leave us."

"We lost a brother too, mate," Ron told him, watching Ginny hug the man and wishing it weren't awkward for him to join in as well. "We can't lose another."

"Promise me," Ginny told him fiercely, pulling herself back and looking her beleaguered brother in the face.

"And what is the word of a gormless fool?" he asked, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Promise me or I get the wooden spoon," Ginny threatened with a responding smirk. "Don't think I won't do it."

"I promise," George told her, a light in his eye rekindling. "I know better than to mess with a Weasley woman, and a red-haired one at that."

"Just remember that," she told him, giving him a soft slap to his arm.

"Severus is coming out," Hermione told them. "Look, he's moving differently."

"Severus?" Ginny asked, suddenly turning towards the small boy. "Severus, are you okay?"

"Fine," the boy mumbled, slowly coming out from under the influence of the potion. "Fine. Where's Harry?"

"He's right behind you, I'm sure," Ron told him, patting his arm gently. "He just has to use the safe word. Are you hurt?"

"Bloody awful," Severus slurred, rubbing his face into the cushion of the couch. "Awful, but Harry, Dad . . ."

"He's waking," Hermione told them. "See, he's right here."

"Fred," Harry mumbled as he started moving, rubbing his face to rid it of the affects of the potion. "Severus?"

"He's fine," Hermione reassured him. "Do you need a Pepper-up?"

"I'm fine," Harry told her, sitting up and holding his head in his hands. "Severus?"

"Fine," the boy mumbled, rubbing his face.

Severus, his vision barely clear from the potion, soon found himself swept up in his new Father's arms and held in a bone-crushing embrace. Then, just as quickly, he felt his arms held firmly and Harry giving him a small shake.

"Never do that again!" Harry told him, his voice firm and frightened. "You nearly scared me to death!"

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, trying to get a look at Severus.

"He's fine," Harry told her. "Tobias was there, and Severus got a few pretty brutal strokes. But, Severus was brave enough to decide to let me in and put a stop to the beating. Then we had a tour of a few of his other fears, and then circled around to Professor Snape again."

"You gave us a right fright, mate," Ron told the boy, patting his shoulder in relief. "No more nicking things, alright? Especially magical things."

"No more," Harry agreed, looking firmly at the boy, still holding him fast. "Now up to your room for a rest. I need some time to talk to the adults _without_ being eavesdropped upon, and then I will come and talk with you."

"But . . ." Severus began.

"No buts," Harry answered firmly. "You need some time to collect yourself. We'll talk more when I come up."

Severus, feeling a little shaky and not wanting to admit that a rest sounded good, nodded.

"Good," Harry told him, patting his shoulder gently. "Good boy. Now go lay down on your bed and rest, even sleep if you can. This ordeal has been very frightening."

"Are you going to . . ." Severus began and then hesitated.

"I am," Harry answered, knowing what the boy meant and nodding seriously. "Professor Snape said I had to, and he was right – you did earn it. But, I don't have to right now; up to bed."

Severus felt the urge rise in him to fight back, but he also felt another urge to obey what Harry had told him to do. His body did feel heavy and weary, and he found himself longing for his bed. But he stubbornly stood there, his jaw set.

"My dear, sleepy Snapekins," George smiled warmly at him, patting his shoulder and gently steering him towards the stairs. "That potion would have used your magic, for which you aren't used to using. Your body should feel about to drop now. Best to obey your Dad and head up or you may fall asleep where you stand. Beddy Bye times for you."

Rolling his eyes and grunting, Severus reluctantly realized that he probably should obey, and before he did something embarrassing like yawn. He shuffled upstairs, trying to look begrudging but actually welcoming the idea of his nice, warm pillow. Within moments, he was asleep.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly after Severus shuffled upstairs.

"Fine," Harry confirmed. "Let me put up a muffling charm just in case he tries eavesdropping again."

"I'll go check on the rascal," Ron confirmed, watching Harry erect the barrier.

"I'll send Grettie to sit with him," Harry countered. "I want you here to talk about what happened."

"Sir?" Grettie chirped as she popped into the room.

"Can you go and sit with Severus please?" Harry asked her. "We need to be able to talk. If he leaves his room or tries to eavesdrop, tell me immediately."

"Yes, sir!" she answered happily and popped away.

"I feel like I violated his privacy," Harry began, unsure of where to start. "And I don't want to tell you guys too many details to make it worse."

"You didn't try and push down the door in the vision, did you?" George asked with sudden worry.

"I did not," Harry told him firmly. "Though it nearly killed me to hear that bastard beating him. Which reminds me, George, that I think I owe you a punch in the face."

"Me?" George asked innocently, though expertly danced out of the range of Harry's fist.

"You let him have that potion!" Harry thundered. "You are smart enough to keep something out of his reach if you wanted to do it."

"Accusations, accusations," George smirked at him. "But no proof!"

"I'm not an auror to you," Harry replied, his eyes narrowing. "I don't need proof. Hold still and take your medicine."

"So what am I being accused of?" George asked, dodging the next lunge. "Making you two deal with his deepest fears?"

"Where was the safety?" Harry demanded, nearly growling. "He didn't have a safe word to end it! That bastard could have killed him!" They both knew that if Harry drew his wand he would most likely best George, but this felt like something more physical and . . . brotherly.

"Not death," George shook his head. "Just a little pain."

"Nearly as bad," Harry growled.

"He is as sneaky a Slytherin that was every born!" George told them. "You all know it. He would never have been honest with you about his fears."

"He did show me what he feared," Harry faltered a little, not quite as aggressive. "In the vision, I mean."

"And why would he want to talk with his older Snapey self without you?" George asked. "He wanted to talk about you, of course! He wanted to ask if he could trust you."

"But the Snape he saw was his own scaffolding," Hermione protested. "Couldn't he have just asked himself?"

"Of course," George answered. "That's essentially what he did."

"But with other fears looming," Harry growled, his eyes narrowing. "He should not have had to deal with . . . those fears."

"You don't have to be so bloody noble and secretive," George told him with exasperation. "It wouldn't take much to guess what the other fears were. I'm sure you had some sort of encounter with his neglectful mother and probably one where we reject him and are only taking him out of obligation. Am I right?"

"Scarily so," Harry answered, surprised.

"And let me guess," George continued. "Big, strong new Dad got to comfort him and reassure him that his fears are unfounded and that he's loved and wanted, probably declaring himself ready to adopt him and throw out the potion Professor Snape left that could re-age him. Almost as if this incident could set a future parental relationship on the right path."

"How do you know this?" Harry demanded.

"Slytherins aren't the only ones capable of logical thinking and strategy," George rolled his eyes.

"He can beat me at chess," Ron conceded, as if that was all that needed to be said about logic and strategy. "I mean, we're pretty evenly matched. He's one of the few that can."

"And we've already established that Professor Snape has mentored you," Hermione surmised. "So you obviously know more than you're letting on."

"Which is why none of you are invited into my If potion," George smirked.

"Just how much of this is manipulation?" Ginny asked quietly, though pinning her brother with a fierce look. "I'm beginning to feel as if you've been playing us all along on a massive chess board."

"Not a chess board," George shook his head. "Just a bit of a nudge here and there. Professor Snape and I discussed . . . contingencies should you need a bit of help here and there. But you guys have practically done it mostly on your own with just the merest of nudges in the right direction."

"I don't think Severus confronting his alcoholic father and being beaten by him was a nudge," Harry told them.

"He's a smart boy; tricky too," George argued. "It is likely he would have figured out how to get the potion anyway. Would it be better to have done it when you weren't on hand to intervene?"

"My father would not have set up an elaborate plan to manipulate me," Harry told George, his voice cold.

"But he would have to make you happy," George answered. "Think about it Harry; he wanted neither of you together out of obligation. What if it backfired? What if you made each other miserable? There had to be contingency plans."

"What type of contingency plans?" Ginny asked.

A quick flash of sadness crossed George's face as he remembered similar conversations with his mentor, and then reached into an inner pocket to produce a small bottle. "Here's the cure, Harry," his voice soft and devoid of the usual teasing tone. "The only bottle of it that exists, and Professor Snape made very sure to destroy any methods we have of recreating it. Throw it in the fire if you wish rid of it, or go and take it to Severus. Although it would probably be sporting to give it to him before you whack him."

Harry crossed the distance and took the bottle from George. George saw what was going to happen next, and made the decision to not dodge and to let it happen. He knew he couldn't reasonable argue that he didn't deserve it, even if his cause had been a noble one. And as Harry's fist flew into his face, crunching against his cheek and sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Never manipulate Severus and me like that again," Harry growled. "No matter the outcome, it is not right."

"Okay, mate," George agreed, allowing Ron to help him up and straightening out his robes. The punch had been hard but reasonable; there was no blood or loose teeth to deal with. Harry had aimed for his cheek, which had hurt but was infinitely better than a bloody nose. A bit of bruise paste and in an hour nobody would know it had happened.

"Violence never solves anything!" Hermione declared, her hands on her hips. "Are we all first years again?"

"Don't give him a bad time," George defended Harry. "I deserved it."

"He probably also has a bit of adrenaline still going from that bloody If potion," Ron nodded.

"I could have blocked it if I'd wanted to," George acknowledged. "Shall we call us square, Harry?"

"Square," Harry nodded back.

"What are you going to do, Harry?" Ginny asked, looking at the small bottle of bright blue potion.

"This involves you too," Harry sighed, putting the bottle on the table. "Let's all of us talk about it."

"You have to promise not to punch anybody else," Ron joked as he sat at the table. "I swear, sometimes I see Professor Snape in your look."

"Then don't misbehave," Harry shot back, smirking. "We all know how he dealt with that."


	25. Chapter 25 - No Going Back

When Severus woke, he saw that the light in the room was very different. He felt confused for a minute, not understanding why the light was different.

"Good evening, sleepyhead," he heard Harry greet him. "If you sleep any more you won't sleep tonight."

"What?" Severus asked, his voice sleepy. Harry laughed at his hair that stuck up in odd angles to his face.

"I've brought us some dinner," Harry told him. "I thought we could eat together and chat, just the two of us."

Snape smelled the food that Harry brought, and his stomach growled obligingly. He suddenly realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and his stomach had gotten used to regular meals. He looked over to the tray where Harry had placed it on his desk, and saw that his guardian had also brought up a long, flat ruler with him. The dark, polished length of wood sat menacingly on his desk, just waiting for him. Severus' stomach flipped.

"I don't want the ruler," he said quietly, sounding as much like a young child as Harry had ever heard him.

"I don't blame you," Harry agreed. "But let's not think about that now, and just have dinner together."

"It puts me off my meal," Severus answered, eyeing the ruler with suspicion. "I don't know why you think I can eat. All I can do is look at that thing."

"I could put it away for now," Harry told him. "Out of sight, out of mind?"

"Won't work," Severus grumbled miserably. "I know it's coming."

"Is it that terrible?" Harry asked, concerned. "I mean, it's not fun at all, but are you actually scared of getting it? I won't abuse you."

"It's just so strange to think you would be reasonable," Severus told him, looking down. "I mean, I was really bad. I broke my word and eavesdropped on you, and then I stole the potion to use. I'm not so sure you shouldn't abuse me."

"You did far more than that," Harry told him, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Those certainly were wrong, but that's not what I'm most upset about."

"What's that?" Severus asked, confused. Shouldn't Harry be angry about his disobedience?

"It killed me to hear you being beaten by your father," Harry told him. "I was helpless to stop it. George had told me not to force myself in, to just wait until you invited me. It was awful."

"It wasn't really real," Severus told him, looking down. "It wouldn't have killed me."

"I know," Harry acknowledged. "And I know you'd gotten it countless times in the past as well. But still hearing it happen and knowing that it was happening because of a reckless choice you made – well, that's why you're getting the ruler. The disobedience earned you a spanking, certainly, but the fact that you endangered yourself like that…"

"Makes you really want to make me pay," Severus nodded.

"Not at all," Harry answered, exasperated. "It makes me want to do my level best to make sure that doesn't happen again. This is not about revenge; it's about making sure you're safe."

"You're going to punish me to keep me safe?" Severus asked incredulously.

Harry understood the incredulity, he remembered feeling the same way when Professor Snape had said much the same to him. He had been so used to punishment being used to force him to make the adults' lives better, that it seemed very odd that it was more to make his own life better.

"I am," Harry answered. "It's okay if you don't believe me now, I didn't believe Professor Snape either. But it is true. You need to obey what I say at least enough to keep you out of trouble."

"What if I promise to always listen to you from now on?" Severus asked, a bargaining tone to his voice. "And I promise never to eavesdrop and lie and steal again?"

"That is a tempting offer for me," Harry nodded. "But I tried that once with my dad as well. Do you want to hear what he said?"

Severus nodded, although he didn't think he was going to like what his older counterpart had to say.

"He said that letting me out of my punishment would be shortchanging me," Harry told him. "That I wouldn't remember my promise like I would remember a sharp consequence. He said punishments weren't pleasant, but served a purpose."

"With my Dad it just made me faster," Severus muttered darkly.

"Would you like your punishment before dinner?" Harry asked kindly. "I realize that it's kind of scaring you, maybe it would be better to be over."

"I'd rather not have it at all," Severus answered darkly.

"I know," Harry answered. "I know. But maybe it would be a bit better if at least you chose when you got it?"

"Before dinner," Severus grumbled, though he was secretly a bit relieved. The waiting was wearing on him; he knew it would be much better when it was over.

"You had to have known this was coming," Harry started, looking at the young boy with some sympathy.

"I did," Severus agreed. "I thought that this time you might make it worse, like maybe a cane or something."

"I'm not going to abuse you!" Harry insisted, then sighed. "I know there's nothing I can say that will make you believe me; it took me years to really believe Professor Snape. So what you need is really just a few years of a reasonable father."

"Years?" Severus echoed.

"Yes, silly," Harry told him. "What we've decided is going to be years. You will live with me until you go to Hogwarts, but then you will still stay with me for holidays and summers. We have many years together. Which reminds me…" he produced a small vial of potion with a flourish.

"What's that?" Severus asked to confirm, though he knew.

"The cure," Harry answered simply. "I wanted you to see me destroy it."

"Are you sure?" Severus asked, an edge to his voice. "You may want to keep it in case you decide I'm not a good son."

"Won't happen," Harry assured him. "Do I have your permission to destroy it?"

Severus thought for a minute, although he knew all along what he was going to choose. Choosing the potion would be choosing back to his life of misery – and a life in which he had to fight ending it. This wasn't a choice between flavors of ice cream – it was a choice between life and death; it was a choice of desperation. "You choose a funny time to ask me," Severus told him, a hint of the sarcasm he perfected as an adult coming out in his tone. "Were I to ask for the potion I would miss the ruler."

"Perhaps," Harry told him with a smile. "Perhaps I could give it to you after your punishment. However, I'm not sure I want to give the ruler to you if you will become my father again in a half hour; that might be a bit of a death wish on my part."

"I choose to destroy it," Severus answered quietly, before Harry could change his mind. He half expected Harry to laugh and ask him why would he want a son like Severus.

"Me too," Harry told him, and with a wave there was a fire roaring in the small coal fireplace in the corner of the room. Harry threw the vial in the fire, where the glass shattered and the flames turned lavender for a moment as the potion burned.

"It's done," Harry told him. "There's no going back now. We have the rest of our lives together now."

"It feels like this punishment is taking years to start," Severus grumbled, uncomfortable with the obvious ease that Harry felt in contemplating years of relationship with him. Didn't Harry know that he would grow tired of such an unattractive, disobedient kid?

"Then let's do it," Harry told him more firmly than he felt as he picked up the ruler in his hand. "I'll sit on the bed, and you go over my lap."

Grimacing at the embarrassment of it but also feeling a bit relieved to be on his lap, Severus obeyed, gripping the pillow Harry handed him tightly. Feeling Harry's legs under his stomach – strong, muscular legs – made him realize how small he actually was. Though Harry was not as big as his father had been – not by several inches and several stone – there was a compact strength to Harry's body that Severus realized shouldn't be crossed. It felt so odd to have someone caring enough about him as Harry seemed to but still had the power to hurt him if he really wanted to do it.

"I believe the count we had agreed on was ten," Harry told the boy firmly, steeling himself for the task. "And I want to be quite clear that this type of behavior won't be tolerated. Any reckless behavior by yourself will be met with the same consequence, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," Severus replied, feeling chagrined.

Harry had to muffle a sad smile to realize how much Severus reminded him at this moment, and how much he was going to have to channel Professor Snape in order to discipline the boy. He still wanted just to hug him and assure him that the world was going to be alright.

Harry brought the first smack down firmly on the miscreant's backside, eliciting a hiss from the lad. Harry had a pretty good idea of how much strength he put behind the blows, having tested the ruler out on his own thigh before entering the room. He had a very distinct memory of how much the ruler could sting, though Professor Snape never left a mark on him that lasted more than a few hours. He was hoping for the same level of sternness. He brought the ruler down again, this time across the upper thigh. Severus yelped a bit and squirmed.

"It doesn't seem so fun to eavesdrop and then steal a potion now, does it?" Harry asked him, remembering how Professor Snape used to lecture him sometimes during a particularly earned punishment.

"No," Severus answered honestly, grimacing at the third stroke.

"Then don't do it again," Harry mercilessly told him, firmly applying the fourth stroke. And so it went on, the ruler making its relentless journey to ten strokes. Severus squirmed and his cries became a bit more desperate as they approached ten, and after the last two strokes hit sharply across his upper thighs the tears fell, wetting Harry's jeans below him.

"It's over," Harry assured the boy, putting down the ruler and trying to pat his back. Severus stayed where he was, furiously wiping his tears and not looking at his guardian.

"umph srth," Severus mumbled into the pillow.

"I'm sorry?" Harry asked.

"I'm sorry," Severus spat out, taking his face away from the pillow but not looking at Harry.

"Thank you," Harry answered, deciding to take the words as what he meant rather than the tone. Harry hadn't asked for an apology, and frankly he was surprised to receive one. "It takes a brave man to admit when he's wrong."

"Does it?" Severus sniffed, turning his tear-stained face onto Harry.

"It does," Harry assured him. "Professor Snape always told me that."

"I'm beginning not to like him very much," Severus grumbled, putting his face back in the pillow but making no move to get up.

"Well, you would like him even less if you knew what he told me after you left the vision," Harry told him playfully.

"What was that?" Severus asked with suspicion.

"He said to lay the ruler on you hard," Harry answered truthfully. "He said to do it hard enough to hopefully not have to do it very often. And then he told me that if I was soft with you that anything you did after that to endanger yourself was my own fault."

"Seems like it would be my fault," Severus grumbled again. Didn't Professor Snape remember what it was like to be a kid? Or maybe he did, Severus thought with chagrin.

"So I told him I would punish you properly," Harry laughed, patting the boy's back. "I trust I wasn't too hard on you?"

"You know you weren't," Severus told him, pushing himself up but not facing Harry directly.

"You don't have to fear me," Harry told him. "That's the hardest physical punishment I will give you."

Slowly, Harry reached out his arms and pulled a reluctant Severus into a hug. Harry let him face away from him, thinking it would feel less threatening to the boy, and Severus allowed Harry to hug him. It felt strange – those strong arms around him, holding him gently instead of holding him down to hurt him. The strangeness of the sensation almost made him want to resist, but he was also drawn to something else. It made a part of him inside feel warm as well, as if Harry might actually care about him at least a little.

"You are my ward forever now," Harry told him. "And, like Professor Snape said, my son. Severus, I'm happy you're here."

Severus, his backside still stinging from a reasonable, measured punishment and his body feeling warmed by the unexpected hug, could almost believe him.

* * *

 _AN: And there it is, another story complete. Please let me know what you think! Thank you for everyone who has read my work and especially the loyal commenters who have given me such encouragement through the writing process. I am still working out if I will do a sequel, so look for a notice if I do. If I don't, I'm sure the muse will take me somewhere else fun. Thank you all._


	26. Chapter 26 - The Continuation

Epilogue

George delicately dabbed on the bruise paste to his face, grimacing at the icy coldness of the formulation. Even though this version that Professor Snape had made him was vastly superior to what he'd had before, the coldness was still unpleasant. But, better than going around with a bloody bruise and everyone asking who'd punched him. Snape had even warned him this could happen when Harry found out about his complicity in the plan, that bloody Slytherin. He had predicted the events of his de-agement with scary accuracy, and known pretty much exactly how George could affect it.

With his cheek under control, George then went to the locked cubby in his desk and carefully unlocked the door with several intricate tappings on the pattern on the front. The door sprung open, revealing his most closely held secrets. With a bit of a smile and a salute to the old man, he picked up the letter he had left him and broke the dark green wax seal in the back. Pulling out the heavy parchment paper, George read the title of the letter.

 _Phase II_

This is a sequel announcement. Please check out Raising Snape 2 which I have just posted.


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